Hitchhiker
by ValleyA
Summary: Peter comes back from Kermit's sister's haunted house with more than just his father.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning**: This a particularly violent story, and it can get pretty scary at times. Please do not read if either aspect upsets you. RL turned my life upside down recently and twisted it inside out. This story was the release from that emotional upset. Funny how extreme stress can be worked out by putting fictional characters through even more stress, but it works for me and my twisted psyche. VEG

**"Hitchhiker"**

**(A Halloween Tale)  
>by ValleyA<strong>

**(Set immediately after Demons)**

**Chapter One**

There was a nagging itch at the back of Peter's neck and he scratched at it without relief. The rough sound of the Stealth's engine only added to his growing irritation. The car had been running just fine going up to Braselton, but on the return trip, it was misfiring and running hard.

_*Probably the timing belt. Or maybe fouled spark plugs. Something that can turn bad fast,* _he thought grimly. Though he'd stopped several times on the way home to determine the cause of the problem, its mysterious malfunction continued to elude him.

His father's soft voice pulled him away from running through the car's systems. "Peter, you seem distracted. Are you well?"

Peter scratched at his neck one last time, then concentrated on placing both hands on the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of his father's building. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's my car that's not."

Unable to resist the urge, Peter's hand went back to his neck and rubbed the skin, battling his desire to rake his nails across the bothersome area. Caine grabbed his wrist and gently pulled the hand away as he turned to examine the back of Peter's neck more closely.

Peter saw his father's expression change as he brushed his fingers across the abraded skin.

"What? It's a bug bite or something. Probably when we were in Marilyn's attic. It's no biggie. Really."

When Caine didn't agree with him, but instead continued to examine the irritated area, Peter pulled away from him. The itching and the rough idle of the Stealth were driving him crazy, but his father's persistence could prove far worse, especially if Caine thought the situation warranted stubbornness.

He glanced toward Caine and found his father's hazel eyes dark with worry. He recognized that look in his father's expression. He swallowed, trying to think of some way to appease him when Caine spoke up.

"Peter, your aura is clouded with agitation and your chi is very hard to read. In fact, I can read very little from you, except what I can see with my own eyes,"' his father said softly, but Peter heard the sobering echo of deep concern.

"Come on, Pop, I'm just a little jumpy. It's probably a delayed reaction from this crazy weekend. I mean, we were talking to people who have been dead for twelve years. Ghosts, for crying out loud! We were pretty damned lucky to bust the bad guys before they killed us. I think that's more than enough to get anyone jumpy."

With a nervous chuckle, Peter quipped, "And that's the last time I attend a Griffin family dinner party," he paused as he scratched his neck again, and then stopped, glaring at his hand in irritation.

"I have a salve that will help with the itching," Caine said, reaching into his satchel.

"That's okay, Pop, it's not that bad," Peter started, but when his father placed the small jar into his hand, he didn't give it back.

"Uh, thanks," he murmured, then noticed his father's silent stare.

After an uncomfortable moment, Peter pointed to the front door of the building beside them. "Sorry to rush you, Pop, but I'm blocking this lane of traffic and my car isn't running that great anyway. I wouldn't want it to break down right here. I wish the shop was still open, but I'll take it in tomorrow morning. Right now, I need to get home."

Caine shifted in his seat and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Peter, please park and come inside with me."

Peter felt his agitation grow. "What? So you can offer me some noxious tea or gnarly tasting herb for this bug bite? Thanks, but no thanks. Unless you've got something that will help engine trouble, I've got to run."

"Please, Peter."

"Sorry, Pop, but it's been a long weekend and I've still have a ton of other things to do before work tomorrow. And with the car not running right, I'm going to have to get up early to take it into the shop." Upon seeing his father's discomfort, he added, "But... maybe I can stop by after that."

Sadly, Caine shook his head. "Master Khan has asked the Ancient and myself to join him on a personal pilgrimage of vital importance. We leave before dawn tomorrow and will be gone for a few days."

Peter felt a sudden flash of abandonment at hearing of his father's impending absence before he nodded his head, silently accepting the constant presence of his father's duties and obligations, although a little more advance notice would have been nice.

"Well, have a good trip. When will you be back?" he asked pensively.

Caine merely shrugged in reply.

Peter sighed, prompting Caine to add, "Perhaps, a few days. Perhaps more."

"Okay, well, I'll see you when I see you," Peter said, listening to the distant tone in his voice as he spoke.

Apparently, his father heard it, too. Caine rubbed his hand still resting on Peter's shoulder, and then his troubled gaze met Peter's in a silent plea to join him. Peter smiled wanly and patted his father's hand as his resolve began to waver. "Well, uh, maybe," Peter started.

An obnoxious horn blared several times and Peter's gaze darted up to the rearview mirror. His hand left Caine's and went out the open window to wave the car around them. Peter's agitation was back in full force with the startling interruption and the momentary hesitation he had felt before was now gone.

In a rush of movement, he pulled his father close to him, kissing him on the forehead. "I better go before I get a ticket. I'll see you when you get back."

Kwai Chang wasn't making any signs of leaving. Instead, he dug in deeper. "Peter, I sense something is not right with you."

Peter grunted with sarcasm and rolled his eyes. "And that's something new?"

"No, my son, there is something blocking – "

Another blast of a horn ended their conversation. Peter scratched at the back of his neck again as he turned and looked over his shoulder. "The only thing being blocked at the moment is traffic. I better go."

With great reluctance, Caine opened his door and got out.

"Peter, if you need me – "

Peter nodded, only half-listening as he glanced into his side mirror, checking for oncoming traffic as he revved the Stealth's sick engine before shifting into gear. "Yeah, yeah, if I need you, I'll give you a ring."

Upon hearing the door latch catch as it was closed, Peter pulled forward, only then hearing his father's soft voice saying, "Be careful, my son."

"I'll try," he whispered to himself, then he shivered and glanced around the interior of the Stealth, knowing he was alone, but unable to stop himself from looking anyway.

The car lurched forward, the engine misfiring twice before picking up speed again. "I'll try, but it doesn't seem like life is gonna cooperate with me," he grumbled, flipping on his turn signal before making a right turn towards home.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Peter leaned forward to pay the taxi driver and got out of the cab. "What a way to get to work," he muttered with disgust as he adjusted his overcoat.

Even though he had started early, he was already running late. He thought he'd allowed enough time to have the Stealth towed into the garage. Once he'd arrived there and saw the time, he opted to catch a cab rather than to wait for the dealership's shuttle for a ride into work.

Peter straightened his shirt collar and gritted his teeth as the collar rubbed on the back of his neck. His father's miracle salve had eased the itching, but it had done little to alleviate the burning sensation that had begun in the middle of the night.

A couple of aspirin helped to ease the pain, but he had already decided that if it wasn't better by the time his father returned, he planned on having his father check it. Quite a change from the day before, he thought with a sigh. Now, he was wishing he had taken the time yesterday to go up to his father's apartment.

"I can deal with this myself," he whispered, suddenly inspired with newfound Shaolin confidence.

He stopped walking and took a long deep breath. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to relax, and began using his Shaolin training to ease his pain. The nip in the early morning October air eventually brought him back to his surroundings and he realized he'd been standing in place for several minutes.

The fact that he had been successful at reducing the burning sensation at the back of his neck was nearly forgotten when he glanced at his wristwatch.

"Great, now I'll really be late for work," he muttered, shivering as he continued into the precinct.

Peter nodded greetings to Broderick and the others at the front desk before proceeding to his desk. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see Strenlich lurking around, ready to pounce on him for his tardiness. Maybe his luck was changing for the better. It was about time; the day had sucked swamp water so far.

Still chilled, Peter didn't bother to remove his coat, heading directly for the coffee machine. He poured a cup, and then held it tightly in his hands, using the cup's heat for warmth. It quickly warmed his hands, but did nothing for the chill in his soul.

"Get a grip, Caine. You've got a pile of work to tackle," he whispered under his breath, and then squared his shoulders and headed for his desk. Setting his coffee at the corner, he shed his heavy coat. As he hung it on the coat rack, he looked around him.

Everyone seemed very involved in their own work. Peter sat down at his desk and pulled the remaining unused silver bullets from his shirt pocket. He played with them while waiting for TJ Kincaid to get off the phone.

Skalany drifted by, her coat draped across one arm. "So, did you have a nice weekend?" she teased.

With a smile, Peter cryptically replied, "The best."

His response seemed to surprise her because she made a questioning sound as she walked away from him. He continued to toy with the bullets for another moment until TJ was finished.

Sliding his chair over to Kincaid's desk, he made a show of returning the bullets to the redheaded detective. "Come in handy?" TJ asked.

Peter smiled. "As Kermit would say, _'Oh yeah'_."

He patted TJ on the shoulder and rolled back to his desk, thinking about which case had the highest priority on this dreary Monday morning. He sighed, deciding none of them did, but he had to start somewhere.

He was reaching for his mug when it inexplicably moved, tumbling off the edge of his desk. Peter stared at his hand and the floor wet with spilled coffee and broken cup shards as others reacted to the fallen cup.

"Way to go, partner," Skalany chided, pulling a handful of napkins from the counter.

Peter's lips moved without sound and when he glanced up at Skalany, he couldn't keep the shock from radiating in his voice. "I – I never touched it."

Mary Margaret flashed him a wicked smile as she knelt and began swabbing up the excess liquid. "Yeah, right, Peter. Is this your attempt at mystery and intrigue so early on a Monday morning?"

She glanced up and paused when she caught his troubled gaze. Leaning closer, she whispered, "It's just a coffee cup, Peter. Don't worry about it."

Peter caught her arm. "No, Skalany, you don't get it. I... didn't... touch it."

"Chill, partner, chill. It doesn't matter if you touched it or not; it's on the floor in pieces. Come on, help me clean it up before someone slips on it."

Peter swiped a hand through his hair, then grabbed some more napkins and finished mopping up the mess. He tossed the final remnants into a nearby trash can, then turned back to stare at his desk, frowning.

Blake cruised by with another cup of coffee for him, though it was in a styrofoam cup this time. "Thanks, Blake," Peter said.

"No problem. I gave you decaf though... Looks like you're jittery enough already."

It took a moment before Blake's comment sunk in. He turned in Blake's direction but the man was almost out of the bullpen by then.

"I am not!" he shouted, and then swallowed as he realized he had shouted loud enough to cause several of the others to stop working.

"Well, I'm not," he said more quietly as he gestured with the styrofoam cup in hand, causing the dark liquid to lap the edges of the cup. "Ah, hell," he muttered finally when he felt his coworker's scrutiny.

He went back to his desk, hoping to block out his frustration with hard work. Captain Simms and Police Commissioner Kincaid cruised into the bullpen at a rapid pace, involved in a serious conversation.

Just as they passed Peter's desk, the container he kept for pens suddenly tipped over, spilling its contents on the floor before the two. Peter caught the motion of pens tumbling away from his desk, then saw Simms and Kincaid move in slow motion, unable to help them or stop the accident from happening.

Fortunately, Kincaid had seen the falling writing utensils but Simms did not and promptly turned her ankle on an errant pen caught underfoot. The Commissioner tried to catch her, but wound up falling to the ground with her.

Abruptly, the bullpen was a whirlwind of people rushing about to help the fallen. All Peter could do was push away from his desk and look about in bewilderment.

He had seen what had happened, but he was at a loss to explain it. As he caught Kincaid's angry expression, Peter knew he would have to come up with an explanation and it had better be good.

Peter moved around the desk and knelt beside Simms, who was obviously in pain with an already-swelling ankle. Peter swallowed, and offered a hand, but the motion was stopped in midair by a terse command from Kincaid. "Stop right there, Detective!"

Peter did as ordered. As he backed away, Simms turned to Kincaid in obvious confusion. She glanced at him and then back at Peter, waiting for an explanation. All Peter could do was whisper, "I'm so sorry, Captain. I don't know what happened, but – "

"You threw those pens in front of us – that's what happened!" Kincaid's face was red with anger.

TJ put a hand on his father's shoulder, one obviously placed to steady and also to calm. "Come on, Peter wouldn't do a thing like that."

"Like hell, he wouldn't! I saw it with my own eyes!" Kincaid shouted. Evidently, TJ's assistance was ineffective.

"No, no, I didn't. I never touched those pens," Peter stammered.

"Then how did they fall?"

By Kincaid's tone, Peter could tell the man was building into a tirade rather than slowly down.

"Please, Commissioner, that makes no sense at all," Simms said as she carefully rubbed her ankle.

Before Kincaid could respond, Strenlich's voice filled the air. "Everybody back. Now. Broderick, get someone over here to look at the Captain's ankle." He paused, but not long enough for anyone to jump in. "I believe the rest of you have work to do."

The glare Strenlich gave was enough to convince the others to do as ordered, leaving Peter, TJ, and himself to assist the Captain and the Commissioner. "Do you think you can stand up, Captain?" Frank inquired, bending down to slide a strong arm around her waist.

Simms nodded. Peter and Frank helped lift her up as TJ helped Kincaid to his feet. "Take your hands away from her, Caine," Kincaid said tersely. He appeared ready to strike Peter if he didn't comply.

Simms decided Peter's actions for him as she said, "Please, Commissioner, let's take this into my office. And, Peter, you stay at my side. I may have broken this ankle and I'm going to need both you and the Chief's help to get there."

Peter sighed with frustration, but did as requested. The bullpen was quiet as Kincaid slammed the door to Simms' office. Before Kincaid could start in again, Simms made herself as comfortable as possible on the sofa and gave the Commissioner a stern glare. "This is my precinct, Commissioner, and I will deal with my people in my own way."

"But that – that was assault!" Kincaid sputtered.

Simms responded in a calm, steady tone. "No, it wasn't. It was my own fault for wearing high-heeled shoes on a very busy day. It simply was an accident, nothing more. Isn't that correct, Detective Caine?"

Once Simms was sitting, Peter had backed against a wall, folding one arm around his middle while the other went over the burning at the back of his neck. He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, it was an accident, but I'll be damned if I know for sure what happened. I had those pens in a thick mug. Not something easily toppled. I was working on a report when I suddenly caught sight of something falling. It was the pens, and then you went down. I feel really badly about this, Captain."

"Of course, you do, Peter, and I appreciate that. Accidents happen." She grimaced. Peter followed her gaze downward and cringed as he saw her ankle was already turning dark with bruising.

Taking a deep breath, Simms looked in Kincaid's direction. "And, Commissioner Kincaid, while I appreciate your concern as well, accidents cannot be changed by yelling at the people around them. Please, let this be the last I want to hear of this incident."

She smiled weakly, closing her eyes in pain, and then looked to Kincaid again. "Unfortunately, our meeting today will have to be postponed, Commissioner."

Kincaid looked like he wasn't ready to back down, but TJ placed a hand on his arm and the older man took a deep breath and nodded. Just then, the door to the office opened and Broderick was leading the way for an EMT.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I believe it's time for other matters," she said sternly.

Peter started to apologize again when Simms shook her head. She pointed to the door and he followed the others as they filed from the room, though Peter could feel Kincaid's gaze on him all the way to his desk as he sat down.

Jody cruised by and leaned close to him. "Everything okay?"

Peter managed a quick nod in reply.

"Good, because I just got a call from Assistant D.A. Jenkins and they are moving up the Bristol case. They want both of our reports by the end of the day."

Again, Peter nodded and turned to his desk. He felt a soft hand on his cheek, turning his face toward her. "Peter, you're white as a ghost. Are you okay?"

There was no mistaking the concern in her voice, but he felt anything like okay. Lying through his teeth, Peter reassured her. "Yeah, sure, just fine."

He pulled away from her and pretended to be working on a file so that she would leave him alone. The moment she walked away from his desk, he placed a hand over the burning at the back of his neck. It seemed to be getting hotter, if that was possible.

"Yeah, Jody, I'm just fine," he whispered to himself as he closed his eyes.

_*Can this day get any worse?_* he thought glumly.

With a sigh, Peter forced his eyes open, only to see Commissioner Kincaid glaring at him. Needing some activity to distract himself from the set of eyes still staring daggers at him, Peter picked up his pen and pretended to be making notes.

He tried to focus on the open report before him, but couldn't resist the urge to mutter, "Ask a silly question... Geez, Peter, of course, it can get worse. In fact, it just did."

**oOoOoOoOo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Hours later, Kermit stood in one corner of his office, watching Peter through a crack in the drawn blinds. Without meaning to, Kermit began building a profile on Peter's behavior. The first word that came to mind was paranoid. It was something Kermit could relate to after years of being on the watch for old enemies.

Then he chided himself for analyzing Peter's actions so clinically. He was a friend after all. _Old habits die hard though_, he thought with a grunt.

Whispering to himself, he said, "Kid, you look like a popcorn kernel ready to explode. What's going on with you?"

Every once in a while, Peter would jump as if someone had touched him, but no one was around. Or he'd snatch up a piece of paper like it was something offensive and eye his coworkers ominously, all while constantly rubbing the back of his neck.

Kermit pulled off his dark glasses and chewed on the tip of one earpiece. His office was darkened, on purpose. He didn't want to add to Peter's paranoia, but the young man warranted further observation.

When Kermit had arrived at the precinct late that morning after a court appearance, he was dismayed to hear Captain Simms had broken her ankle and had gone home to recuperate. Not only that, but Peter had been blamed as the source of the accident.

Other stories started to filter his way about broken coffee cups, toppled containers of pens, malfunctioning machines, and misplaced files, among other things. All rather commonplace by themselves, but together they bordered on the bizarre.

Kermit tapped the earpiece of the glasses against his lip as he watched Peter's escalating state of agitation and distantly wondered where Caine was. The Shaolin priest had an eerie track record of appearing whenever Peter was in trouble. And by the looks of things, Peter was headed for big trouble.

Peter was staring at a piece of paper with a look of disbelief on his face, then the young detective stood abruptly, waving the paper around.

"Whose joke is this?" he shouted angrily.

"Oh yeah, it's show time," Kermit said sarcastically as he shoved his glasses back in place and opened the door.

Peter was no longer building up to something; he was about to explode. "I'm asking whose joke this is... because I want to ask the asshole who's been writing them exactly what they mean. I don't get it," he paused as he glared at the paper more closely.

"T-S-O-L? E-M-O-H?" he spelled out the written letters, giving each letter its own emphasis.

Barely stopping long enough for a quick breath of air, he threw both hands into the air and continued with his tirade, "Damn, I left my secret decoder ring at home today, so will somebody tell me what the hell do they mean?"

Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were staring at Peter with expressions of confusion and worry. Peter just wasn't acting like Peter and it was obviously alarming those around him.

"Caine, I need to speak with you in my office," Kermit said forcefully. When Peter hesitated, he added, "Now."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and his wide-eyed gaze swept the room once more before coming back to Kermit. Seeing the level of willpower Peter seemed to use just to walk into his office did nothing to ease Kermit's concern for the young detective.

Kermit closed the door once Peter was inside. He wasn't sure how to proceed. With Peter in his current state, something had to be done to settle the man, but which approach would work the best?

As he turned around, he saw Peter nervously pacing the small area. "Peter, sit," he ordered, keeping his statement deliberately short.

Peter gritted his teeth. For a moment, he looked like he was about to bolt, but then sat in a nearby chair. Kermit leaned against the closed door, thinking it was best to block Peter's escape route if he decided to run.

"What's going on, kid?"

Peter jumped to his feet, exasperation evident in his pale expression. "That's why you ordered me in here? To ask what's going on? Shit, do you think you have to step up to the plate now with Paul and Pop gone, like some designated pinch hitter?"

Calmly, Kermit answered in a low tone, "No, I'm not. I'm just the guy wondering why you look like you're about to lose it out in the bullpen for no good reason."

Peter's hazel eyes flashed with pain and frustration before he turned away, running a hand through his dark hair before resting it on the back of his neck. "There's a reason... I don't know or care if you think it's a good one," he whispered to the wall he was facing.

"Try me. I might surprise you. You forget that I still owe you a big one for helping out at Marilyn's."

Peter turned halfway and paused. "No, I might surprise you. Hell, you may even be right. I'd be thinking I was losing it, too, except for what I have in my hand."

Kermit took a step toward him. He had forgotten about the paper. "What's that?"

Peter handed it to him, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two dozen more pieces of crumpled paper. "I've been finding them all day long. In my pockets, in my desk drawers, in random case files... Hell, there was even one written on the toilet paper in the restroom. I just can't figure out how they are doing it, whoever it is."

Kermit eyed the papers carefully, turning on his desk lamp as he spread them out across his desktop. There was something eerily strange about the consistency of the scribbled letters. They appeared to be written in a malodorous reddish-black ink, smelling vaguely of sulfur. Most had just one word, but sometimes both were written on the same page, tsol and emoh.

Peter's voice was quiet, almost frightened as he continued, "It's not just that. It's the accidents happening around me all day, with Captain Simms being the worst." Peter's voice broke slightly as he took an involuntary breath of air.

"Since I've come to work, my telephone and cell phone have stopped working, at the same time. My desk lamp and the coffee machine are on the fritz. And that's just since I've been here. Before that, my electric razor wouldn't turn on and the coffee maker at home wouldn't start. The topper was having to have the Stealth towed into the shop."

Kermit stared at him for a moment. "Okay, so you're having a really bad day. What's your point?"

Before Peter could answer him, Kermit's desk light blinked out. Peter raised his hands as if that explained it all. Kermit straightened and came around his desk.

"Yes, that's weird, Peter, I'll grant you that much, but it isn't the end of the world. There's something more. What is it?"

Peter wrapped his arms around his chest so fast that Kermit thought he was having some sort of spasm, and then Peter started his pacing, obviously searching for words of explanation.

Without warning, he stopped in front of Kermit. When he looked up at Kermit, it felt like Peter's emotion-darkened eyes were boring right through Kermit's soul. "Kermit, have you... have you ever felt like someone was standing right beside you – I mean, right beside you – but when you looked around, no one was there?"

Without missing a beat, Kermit replied, "Sure, used to happen all the time, but now the medication takes care of that problem."

The sudden flash of pain in Peter's eyes told him his quip had wounded Peter badly. Kermit raised his hands in supplication. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Yeah, sure, it's happened, but it's always just a passing thing. Peter, you have to be able to trust what your senses tell you. As a cop, your life and the lives of those around you might depend on it."

Peter's gaze darted away for a moment, and then was back on him again with even greater intensity. "And if my... my senses tell me that I'm not alone? That _someone_, or _something_, has been screwing with me all day?"

Kermit placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, about to say words designed to calm his friend when he suddenly gasped in pain. As he pulled his hand away, he noticed a small bloodstain on Peter's jacket, then as his hand hovered in the air, a drop of blood dripped onto the floor. The sight shocked both men and Kermit flipped his hand over to see what had caused it.

A piece of paper was stapled to the palm of his right hand, the metal staple twisted and tarnished, as if it was ages old instead of seconds. There was just enough of the note not splattered with blood to leave it readable.

One of the mysterious words was written on it. The ink wasn't even dry as Kermit read 'emoh', silently noticing how the reddish-black ink bore an eerie resemblance to his recently splattered blood beside the scribbles. His gaze darted from his hand to Peter and back to the paper again.

Peter didn't hesitate. He pulled the paper, staple and all from Kermit's hand, and tossed it onto the desk in disgust and frustration. "SHIT!"

He turned back to Kermit, who was still standing in the same place, now with one hand holding the other. A few more drops of blood had collected in the palm of his hand from the two small puncture wounds.

Kermit Griffin had incurred far worse wounds over the course of his life, but none had left him as stunned as the minor one he had just suffered. Finally, when he was able to move and talk again, it was more to himself than to Peter. "There has to be a logical explanation for this... "

"Yeah, right, when you come up with it, you let me know! Until then, I'm shutting down my computer and leaving before anyone else gets hurt around here!"

Peter threw open the door and stormed into the bullpen. Kermit followed him out, but a series of events began that prevented any further progress.

First, the power to the bullpen flickered off and on, as if it was trying to correct itself. As Peter pulled his chair away from his desk and reached down to turn off his computer, a look of pure terror crossed over his face. He screamed and clutched his right shoulder.

A split second later, his computer tower erupted into flames, and the monitor exploded, the blast sending Peter flying through the air.

**oOoOoOoOo**

The smoke was thick as the combined efforts of three fire extinguishers were used to put out the last of the flames. Kermit knelt over Peter, shielding him from the chemical fog produced by the extinguishers. As he put his ear to Peter's chest, he was relieved to hear the steady rhythm of Peter's heart beating and the sound of air flowing in and out.

He was about to rise when he thought he heard a whisper, something that crept across his soul and left him shivering in its wake. "Kermit."

A cold fingernail brushed against the back of Kermit's hand, breaking the paralyzing spell of the whisper and he bolted upright. Peter's words came back to him – _'Kermit, have you...have you ever felt like someone was standing right beside you, I mean, right beside you, but when you looked around, no one was there?'_

Kermit knew his eyes were wide with fear, but the only person near him was Jody. She was kneeling at Peter's other side. Fortunately, she couldn't see his eyes because of his dark glasses. They did come in handy at times.

Jody's voice was tense with worry as she asked in a rush, "What, Kermit? Is he breathing? Is he alive?"

All Kermit could manage was a nod before the paramedics and firefighters rushed in to take over. He stood, but it was as if he was stuck in slow motion, and the rest of the world was in fast forward.

His gaze darted from Peter to the back of his own injured hand, holding one hand with other as if it had been broken, instead of brushed against by the paramedics to get to their patient. He turned the hand over and the telltale staple punctures of his palm were red and puffed, as if angered by the earlier penetration of metal.

Peter's frightened words kept echoing in his head. Kermit swallowed and backed out the main stream of traffic, relieved to see Peter was starting to come around, though he was still quite groggy.

Kermit felt the same way, like he'd just been rocked by an explosion – an explosion of one word. _"Kermit." _

His name had been whispered with the same damned lilt he'd heard back at Marilyn's.

The ex-merc shivered uncharacteristically as he recalled following the criminals, who had Marilyn, into the basement. He had barely entered the hallway when the walls had grabbed at him, ghostly images of hands reaching for him while whispering his name.

He gritted his teeth as he dwelled on those disturbing memories. He'd thought they had sent hell back where it belonged the day before, but apparently, hell had followed them back to work.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three  
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"Excuse me, but was this man knifed, too, in addition to his computer exploding?" one paramedic asked without looking up from Peter.

The other paramedic answered him. "No, Tom, it looks more like his shoulder was caught in some type of cutting machine. Look at the number and angle of the cuts..."

Kermit had been talking to Strenlich, but he stepped closer when he heard the paramedic's comment, not completely understanding the man's question. Strenlich was right behind him, and he squeezed in to look over the paramedic's shoulder, too. By then, the paramedics had removed Peter's jacket and shirt, revealing five angular cuts at the top of Peter's right shoulder.

Frank was the first to speak up, though his tone was stunned. "No, he wasn't knifed. Like I told you before, he was fine one moment, then he reached down to do something with his computer, and the damned thing blew up and sent him flying."

Kermit kept silent. His mind was reeling was incredible possibilities. In his head, Kermit could see Peter's movements. _Peter screamed first, and then the computer blew up. Gauging by those cuts, it looks like he was grabbed by something that dug into his skin. Something sharp. Something that could make five cuts. Perhaps, something that had five fingers...five very sharp fingers.'_

Kermit's thoughts wandered back to the long spindly fingers that had reached for him at the Gables less than forty-eight hours before. Maybe they could have caused wounds like that if they'd ever gotten a good hold on him.

The paramedic named Tom started cleaning up Peter's cuts, but stopped when Peter, in his semiconscious state, grabbed at his arm and groaned in obvious pain.

"Geez, the blood is still flowing, but it looks like... " Tom said, then he stopped, glancing up at his partner, giving him a look of concerned wariness.

Turning back to Peter, he said, "Peter, I'm going to flush your wound with sterile water. It may burn a bit."

Peter didn't react to the man's words. He was still too groggy. As Tom turned to retrieve the container of sterile water, he whispered to his partner, "Those cuts are already starting to fester."

The other EMT leaned down for a closer look, and then his gaze darted back up at Tom with worry. Without further conversation, Tom broke the seal on the plastic container and poured the liquid over the cuts.

Peter came up off the ground, groaning in his semiconscious state and fighting off the helping hands beside him until he passed out.

"What the hell is going on?" Kermit asked finally.

"I have no freaking idea," Tom replied. He scratched his head and rocked back on his heels. "There's a possible concussion and lots of bruising, but I think he'll be all right. I'll bet these cuts will cause him a lot more pain than the other stuff all put together. They look nasty."

Tom's partner finished irrigating the area and said, "Blood is still flowing, but the cuts themselves look strange. Could there have been any chemical contamination involved?"

"I don't think so," Kermit replied, tightlipped. "I was between him and the fire extinguishers while they were putting out the fire."

Frowning, Tom used some sterile pads, and dried the area, then covered them with the largest dressings he had.

"He's stable enough to move now. Ready?" the other paramedic asked.

"Yeah, let's move him," Tom agreed.

"Can I ride along with him?" Jody asked, having stepped up to listen to the conversation.

The paramedic shrugged as they started moving toward the door. "Sure, no problem."

Strenlich put a hand on her shoulder. "Go ahead, Jody. I'll be over as soon as I get people started on cleaning up this mess."

Jody nodded and grabbed her purse. Moments later, they were gone, leaving the detectives to stare at the jumbled mess of Peter's computer. "Come on, time to get back to work," Frank said in a softer tone than normal.

The Chief rubbed his hand across the top of head, as he paused deep in thought. "What _did_ cause Peter to go flying like that? I've seen a monitor explode once before, but not with that kind of force. Maybe it was rigged or something."

"That sounds a bit paranoid, Chief. Are you suggesting sabotage?" Kermit said softly as he knelt and picked up the discarded remnants of Peter's shirt and jacket. He fingered the bloody tears in the fabric.

Frank bent over for a closer look and whistled. He glanced around the rubble. "Well, I certainly don't see anything that would have done that kind of damage."

Kermit stood, still holding the clothes in his hands. "I believe the key word here is _see_."

Frank turned to him, puzzled. "What?"

Kermit ignored Frank's confusion and looked around, searching the room, then he finally asked, "Where's TJ?"

"He gave his father a ride to his office to get him away from Peter, then he was headed to a stakeout. Why? You interested in rare stamps, real estate, or a piano player?"

Kermit didn't bother to smile. "Nothing so mundane," he said cryptically.

"Talk to Broderick. He can give you the exact location of the stakeout, but aren't you due back in court in twenty minutes?"

Kermit glanced at his watch and cursed. "Dammit!"

His testimony was crucial to putting away Eddie Malone. That scumbag was important enough for Kermit to postpone a discussion with Kincaid, at least for the short term.

Kermit remembered Peter telling him at Marilyn's how TJ had given him the silver bullets and holy water. They both had come in handy at the Gables. Maybe TJ could explain what the hell was going on. Without Caine or the Ancient around for explanations, TJ was the next best source.

Strenlich had stayed silent while Kermit paused in thought, but finally he spoke up. "What did you mean just now? Are you saying you saw something I didn't?"

Kermit shook his head. "No, I saw what you saw, but the evidence in my hand says something else happened, too."

Frank frowned, his confusion growing. Kermit handed Frank Peter's tattered clothing. "You better hold on to that. I think Peter's shield is in his jacket pocket."

Kermit sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, unaware he was mimicking Peter's newly acquired habit until he did it. Frank didn't move, still waiting for more information. Kermit didn't have a lot more to give him unfortunately.

"Give the kid some leeway. He didn't get much rest this weekend."

Sarcasm echoed in Strenlich's voice. "What? Did he have a hot date?"

"You could say that. The flames of hell surely can burn."

Strenlich turned and gave Kermit a glare that could cause most men to break into a sweat. "Kermit, sometimes, you say the damnedest things."

"Sorry, it's a chronic condition."

"Whatever," Strenlich muttered as he walked away. "You've got eighteen minutes to make it to the courthouse. You better hustle. Judge Wheeler doesn't like to be kept waiting."

**oOoOoOoOo**

Hours later, Kermit stepped out of his Corvair and turned the collar of his overcoat up to protect against the dropping temperature. It was going to be a cold night. Maybe even down below freezing by the feel of things.

He looked up to see the early evening rising moon and cursed the fact that court had run so long. Judge Wheeler had allowed the defense attorney to question him extensively on his testimony despite the fact that it was nearly four o'clock before the court was back in session.

Judge Wheeler was an excellent judge, but she was going to be gone the next two days and wanted to allow the defense to finish presenting their case before leaving. Some motions had been made in chambers before the official proceedings began again.

Kermit spent over two hours on the witness stand, but at least he was done with testifying unless they called him back for additional cross-examination, which was unlikely.

Then there was the matter of tracking down TJ Kincaid. A quick call to Broderick had directed him to an address at the south end of the city. He had just parked when he saw TJ climbing out of his sedan. TJ didn't notice him. He was too busy following his subject with practiced ease.

Kermit fell into step behind TJ and the man he was tailing, staying in the shadows as he recalled the case Kincaid was working on. Terry Jonas was known to be involved in militant neo-Nazi activities, but he was also suspected of being the mastermind behind a series of hate crimes in Chinatown.

Kermit tightened his fists, wondering why Kincaid hadn't called for backup when dealing with such dangerous pond scum. The man ducked down a side street still dotted with businesses, though as they proceeded, the area became more isolated. Still, TJ was able to stay with him without being too obvious.

Something was bothering Kermit, and then his eyes narrowed behind his dark shades as he decided it was Jonas' behavior. It was almost as if Jonas knew he was being followed but just didn't give a damn.

About that time, Kermit caught sight of another skinhead trailing Jonas and TJ from across the street. Every once in a while, the new man would glance over in Jonas' direction and smile maliciously.

Then Kermit smiled without warmth, glad he was watching TJ's back, even though it delayed his purpose for being there in the first place.

"What the hell, I need to unwind a bit after sitting in a courtroom all afternoon," Kermit said to himself as he released the safety on his weapon.

"TJ, I do believe you are being set up... but why?" Kermit whispered under his breath, and then added, "Maybe they want to add a cop's death to their list of trophies."

Whatever the motivation, TJ was in way over his head and he finally realized it when Jonas ducked into an alley. Kermit saw TJ's head turn as he noticed the skinhead from across the street hustling in his direction, especially when the man had one hand shoved into a jacket pocket and it was pointed in TJ's direction.

A white van screeched to a halt beside Kincaid, effectively blocking any avenue of escape. The side door slammed open and another skinhead sat with a rifle pointed in TJ's direction.

Kermit had only a moment to size up the situation and didn't hesitate in the least. He ducked behind a rusty Ford Rambler, shedding his trench coat and suit jacket in a blur while kicking off his shoes and socks. Next, he pulled his tie and shirt off, and then dropped his trousers. He spied a crumpled brown paper sack cluttering the sidewalk beside him and stuck his gun in it, then he ambled down the street in his boxers, singing as loudly as he could, off-tone and slurred.

"_'I can't get no... satisfaction_'," he crooned the chorus of the famous Rolling Stones song as he slyly noticed people fleeing the area, while the skinheads didn't know quite how to make of him.

"_'I can't get no... satisfaction. 'Cause I try and I try and I try. I can't get no, I can't get no... satisfaction'._"

Jonas stepped up behind TJ, and had pressed the muzzle of his gun into the detective's back. Kermit began singing even louder and swaying in his step.

_''When I'm drivin' in my car. And that man comes on the radio. He's tellin' me more and more. About some useless information. Supposed to fire my imagination. I can't get no – oh no no no. Hey, hey, hey, that's what I say.'"_

When Kermit stopped beside them, he was starting in on the chorus again, "_'I can't get no – " _

Squinting wildly, Kermit pointed at TJ. "Hey, I – I know you! You're Jerry's brother!"

He patted TJ on the arm like a long lost relative and laughed out loud. "Hey, imagine that, us running into each other in this part of town."

Jonas leaned forward and growled, "You're wrong, buddy. This ain't Jerry's brother. Now, get out of here."

Kermit shook a pointed finger at him and laughed again, playing the giddy drunk to the hilt. "No, I know Jerry's brother like he was my own and that's Jerry's brother! How the hell are you?"

Kermit slurred his words even more as his hand took a firm grip on TJ's arm. "Say, old pal, do you want a swig? It's good stuff, but I've been drinking it all afternoon and it's not doing a thing for me."

His head swept around like he suddenly noticed the weather. "Wow, it's a little chilly out here. Hey, where are my clothes?"

His gaze narrowed on Jonas. "You didn't take them, did you? You know you've got the beady eyes of a thief."

The hard glint in Jonas' eyes told Kermit he had already decided on a double homicide.

Kermit caught TJ's gaze and he nodded once. As one hand pulled on TJ, the other came up and Kermit fired the hidden weapon. The bullet caught Jonas squarely in the forehead. Before Jonas' lifeless body had begun to fall, Kermit was on the move again. He spun around, pushing TJ to the ground and fired at the van twice.

One round hit the man inside the open door; the other flew from a nearly impossible angle to hit the driver from behind. Kermit paused, and then blew on the barrel of his gun. He reached a hand down to help TJ to his feet when he saw Kincaid had his weapon drawn, too.

Strangely, the gun was pointed at him. Before he could say a word, TJ fired, aiming just behind Kermit. An anguished cry told the ex-merc Kincaid had hit his target. Pivoting rapidly, Kermit saw a third man he hadn't spotted before, but TJ had.

"Holy crap, Kermit, was I glad to see you!"

"Figured you might."

"But you're dressed a little light for the weather, aren't you?" TJ quipped as he got to his feet, but Kermit could tell the detective was shaken by the close encounter.

The sound of approaching sirens heralded the arrival of black-and-whites, and Kermit finally pulled his gaze away from the man he'd missed who was now lying on the sidewalk, groaning in pain.

Still dismayed at his lack of observation, Kermit managed a passable response. "Well, if you want to know the truth, it's something I picked up from Peter... this persistent need for exhibitionism."

TJ chuckled as he went to check the downed men for weapons. He came back to Kermit with a small collection of guns and deposited them on the ground.

"Thanks, Kermit," TJ said, shaking Kermit's hand, then he paused for a moment. He let go of Kermit's hand and said, "You might want to get dressed before the crew shows up."

"Not a bad idea," Kermit said, nodding in agreement.

As he started to walk away, TJ added, "And I owe you big time, Kermit. Thanks again."

TJ went to greet the first officers arriving on the scene and Kermit didn't waste any time getting dressed. By the time he was presentable again, the place was swarming with cops, paramedics, and ambulances.

"Kermit, what were you doing here in the first place?" TJ asked, when he could step away again.

"Watching your back. It's a good thing, too."

"Yeah, I'd be a dead man by now. Anyone who buys into your computer geek facade is missing out on the rest of the package."

Kermit grunted. "Keep it to yourself. But enough of that, we've got work to do."

TJ eyed him carefully, "Why were you here?"

"I was looking for you."

"Looking for me? Why?"

"Look, we've got to go. Now."

"Go? We can't leave this crime scene. We'll be stuck here for hours."

Kermit shook his head. "No, we won't. We don't have time for all of the reports and statements the department is going to require here. We've got more pressing matters to attend to," Kermit said, suddenly grim.

"Like that's going to happen," TJ joked as he looked at the assembled masses.

"It's gonna happen. And it's gonna happen right now. I'll be right back," Kermit said as he walked up to the sergeant in charge of the crime scene.

Within moments, Kermit was back at TJ's side.

"Come on, let's go."

"What? We can't leave a crime scene without – "

"Look, it's been taken care of. Now, it's time for me to call in that marker you said you owed me earlier."

"Already?"

"Already."

TJ held his ground for a moment before glancing back to the sergeant who waved sadly. The sergeant walked over to them. "Sorry to hear about your grandmother, Kincaid. My condolences to you and your father," the sergeant said before moving on to examine other areas of the shootout.

TJ's eyes bulged. "What did you say to him to allow us to leave?"

Kermit gave him a deadpan stare and said, "I told him you just found out your paternal grandmother had died. Have the decency to look like you're grieving."

"Kermit, she's been dead for five years."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," Kermit said without expression. He started walking towards his car, and then stopped. Without turning around, he said quietly, "I think Peter need your help."

"This is about Peter?"

Kermit nodded as he pivoted, then his gaze locked onto TJ's.

TJ rubbed his chin. "I heard he was hurt. When I called the hospital, they said they were keeping him overnight."

Kermit nodded again. "Peter told me how you helped him with... _supplies _for the weekend, supplies that came in quite handy. I have a feeling that what's happening with him right now has something to do with what went on this weekend."

TJ let out a long breath. "That's not good."

Kermit nodded once more. "He needs the help of someone who knows how to deal with this crap. I can handle the kind of backup I just gave you without blinking, but this... this is beyond me. You might just be the backup Peter needs right now."

TJ's expression tightened before he rubbed at his earlobe. "You – you don't realize what you are asking of me."

"That's probably true, but the bottom line is Peter's life is in jeopardy. Can you help him?"

TJ didn't move for a long moment as he stared at the officers working the crime scene a short distance down the street. Reluctantly, he sighed and whispered, "Okay."

Kermit smiled and started to speak, but was interrupted by a finger pointed in his direction. "Don't do it. Don't thank me. Not yet. My track record in this department doesn't warrant thanks."

Kermit eyed him closely. "Your girlfriend?"

TJ nodded, revealing a deeper vein of emotion in the darkness of the impending evening with those two words. He swallowed, and then shook his head as if shaking away painful memories. "Yeah, Lydia. I'm not sure I can do anything to help Peter. I've done a lot of research on the subject, but he might be outside my ability to help."

"You're our resident expert. In fact, you're our only expert."

Finally, TJ gave him a reluctant nod. "Well, I'll do my best, and not just because you saved my ass a few minutes ago."

"Good man," Kermit said, patting TJ on the back. "Do you want to leave your car here or follow me over to the hospital?"

"You go ahead. I've got to swing by my place to pick up some things we might be needing."

"Okay, I'll see you there."

Kermit climbed into his car, somehow disturbed by the conversation. Kermit shivered again, but this time, it wasn't due to the October cold.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Peter could hear someone calling his name, but he could barely move for some reason. His head and right shoulder were throbbing in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat. He turned his head a tiny bit and heard his name whispered with what sounded like a foreign accent.

The sound chilled his heart as it repeated itself. "Peeeeterrrr."

"Who's there?" Peter whispered back.

"Hommme... hommme... hommme... Peeeeterrrr... "

"What?"

Peter attempted to rise and a flame of agony sparked to life from the throbbing he'd felt earlier. Someone or something was pressing into his aching shoulder, and then the pleading whisper was much closer.

"Hommme... Peeeeterrrr... hommme... "

The pressure continued until Peter screamed, which promptly woke him up from the nightmare. The room was darkened, so it was either early evening or morning and there was someone standing beside his bed.

He tried to focus on the figure. For a moment, he saw the ghostly image of one of the demons from back at Marilyn's – one of the demons who had tried to grab him back when he'd inadvertently opened the gateway to hell.

Peter struck out in self-defense and rolled away from the figure, falling out of the bed. He hit the cold floor hard. The jarring impact caused his shoulder to throb more violently. The impact brought dizziness and nausea with it, but he didn't have time for that. He had to get away from that thing trying to take him back to hell.

"Peter!"

From somewhere nearby, he heard Jody call his name, though she sounded in pain. Maybe the demon was after her, too. He put one hand up to the bed and pulled himself up to peer over the top. At first, he couldn't see her, and then he saw the top of her blonde head as she got to her feet.

"Jody! Be careful! Something's in here!" he shouted in a loud whisper.

She was holding her cheek as she shook her head, coming around to his side of the bed. "Nobody's here, Peter. You were having a nightmare."

"No, I saw it. I heard it. I felt it," he said in a hoarse whisper as his surge of adrenaline rapidly dwindled.

He collapsed against the bed, pulling at the blankets to help keep him upright. Unfortunately, they followed him to the floor. Jody caught him before he hit the floor for the second time, holding him in her arms as she knelt beside him.

"Oh, partner, we've got to get you back into bed."

She brushed his sweaty hair from his forehead and stared at him in deep concern. "Are you strong enough to do that or do I need to call the nurse for help?"

Even with the dim lighting, Peter could see a nasty redness on her cheek. He blinked, trying to clear the confusion from his memory. He knew what he'd seen. He was sure of it. But Jody wouldn't lie to him.

He reached up and touched her cheek lightly. Even that light contact was enough to make Jody flinch.

"Damn, did I do that?" he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second and that was all Peter needed to see to know the answer. He tensed with realization, but the movement inflamed his shoulder even more.

"Peter," she said softly, bringing her fingers to his cheek, "It was an accident. You were dreaming."

"Dammit, Jody, I'm sick to death of all the accidents happening around me today! It's got to be some kind of world record!"

"Let's talk about this once we have you back in bed."

He nodded and got to his feet, surprised by the overall level of weakness crippling his system. But the escalating pain in his shoulder was almost enough to make him forget about his headache. Almost, but not quite.

Only with Jody's help was he able to crawl back into bed. She quickly covered him with the sheet and blankets, then leaned close to him as he shivered with residual cold.

"How are you doing?"

He held his shoulder, as if that would ease the biting pain. He stiffened suddenly as he tried to recall the events of the day. "Wh–what happened? How did I get here?"

Jody's forehead creased with worry. "You don't remember?"

Peter shook his head, and then regretted the movement. "No, I remember leaving Kermit's office... then it's a blank."

"Your computer exploded. The blast threw you into the wall."

Peter had some vague recollection and he looked to Jody. "How long have I been here?"

She looked at her watch. "About five hours. You've got a gazillion stitches on your shoulder. That's what took them the longest in ER, because they were worried about infection that was setting in. Your doctor was just here. He wants to keep you overnight for observation for the concussion and signs of infection."

She glanced around and began to reach for the cord to the lamp over his bed. "I can't believe how early it gets dark now. How about let's turn on some lights. Close your eyes."

He started to stop her, but he wasn't fast enough. The fluorescent light bulb exploded above his head as she pulled on the switch. Using pure reflex, she bent over him, shielding him from the flying sparks.

"Damn," she muttered as she pulled back. "Are you all right?"

Peter looked to make sure she was okay before he met her gaze. "Jody, I haven't been all right all day long. Something tells me it's only going to get worse."

She pressed the button for the nurse and brushed her fingers across his forehead, keeping her face close to his, smiling wanly. "Geez, you sounded just like your father when you said that. At least, enough to give me the shivers."

The overhead lighting switched on without warning and Peter groaned from the unexpected burst of illumination, squeezing his eyes shut in self-protection. Jody pulled away.

When Peter opened his eyes again, he saw a nurse and a nurse's aide in the room.

"What happened here?" the nurse asked none too gently.

"The bed light exploded when I turned it on," Jody explained quickly.

The tall blonde nurse came over to the bed, and then turned back to the nurse's aide. "Call housekeeping."

Pivoting back to Peter, she glanced him over quickly, "Let's get you out of this bed and into the other one."

With the help of Jody and the nurse, Peter did as requested. They stopped for a moment to make sure he didn't have any glass on him before transferring to the other bed. The action left him breathless and his shoulder felt more and more like it was on fire.

"My name is Ingrid," the nurse said as she checked his pulse, respiration and pupil responses.

By then, two people from housekeeping had arrived and were silently working to clean up the broken glass. The nurse reached for the blood pressure cuff, asking him, "How do you feel?"

Before he could answer her, she shoved a thermometer in his mouth.

"Like I'm stuck in some terminal nightmare," he mumbled around the protruding device.

Finished with her exam, she chuckled and patted his arm. Peter liked the husky sound of her laughter as she said, "I often feel like that."

She checked her watch. "Your doctor ordered some medication for you. I'll call down to the pharmacy for the order. Once it's here, I'll be back."

Peter watched her leave. Jody squeezed the hand she was still holding. "You're awfully quiet, partner."

Peter turned to give Jody his full attention. "That's because I've got to leave here," he said quietly, glancing at the two housekeeping staff.

Jody's incredulous look normally would have made him laugh out loud, but nothing about their situation was funny. He tightened his grip on her hand and whispered, "Jody, I have to leave before more things start going screwy."

"Peter, you can't blame yourself – " she started, but the overhead lights flickered, then the power went out for a moment.

The two people from housekeeping looked up in surprise as they were just finishing remaking the other bed. The older man smiled at the two detectives as his coworker headed for the door. "Don't worry, the backup generator will kick in pretty fast."

Peter looked up at Jody in the meager light of early evening after watching the two people leave. "See, Jody, I have to leave now," he pleaded.

She sighed heavily and nodded before mumbling, "Tell me I'm not going to regret this in the morning."

"Wish I could, Jody, but I'm not sure when this roller coaster ride is gonna end," he answered her, then he gritted his teeth as she helped him out of bed.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Jody eased Peter out of the taxi and held onto him while she paid the driver through the open passenger window. "That's very kind of you to offer to help us inside, but we'll be fine. I only hope your car trouble improves."

She tightened her hold on Peter, being careful of his bandaged shoulder and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed, as if he was in pain or dizzy. Perhaps, it was a combination of both. His complexion was so pale that she worried she had made a big mistake in helping him to leave the hospital.

The taxi cab pulled away, backfiring several times before it began to pick up speed. In response, Peter gave an exhausted sigh of frustration.

The chill of the late October evening did nothing to improve his mood, even with Jody's jacket wrapped around his shoulders, and he began to shiver. He was still wearing his thin hospital gown, with its long ends tucked into his trousers, because he had no shirt or even his own jacket. They were still at the precinct.

Peter swayed slightly and Jody tightened her hold on him. "Come on, Peter, we better get inside. It's damned cold out here."

He nodded in acknowledgment, but he was barely with her. His injuries were demanding all of his attention, she noted with sadness. Either that or his nightmare was still haunting him. Her cheek throbbed with the cold, reminding her of the bruise he had inadvertently given her. As if she needed a reminder. Peter's guilty gaze was more than enough.

They entered the elevator and Jody punched the button for the seventh floor. The elevator started, and then shuddered. Both of them stared wide-eyed at each other and held their breath until the car hesitantly resumed its upward motion.

"Maybe we should have taken the stairs," Jody whispered, her voice still heavy with fear.

Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the interior of the elevator car, releasing a long sigh. He rubbed his shoulder absently, and then shook his head. "There's no way I'd make it up all those flights, Jody. No way. Not now. Not in the shape I'm in."

Even his voice sounded exhausted and she wondered just how badly he was hurting. Peter had always been a fighter, but there was something muting his fighting spirit and she wanted to know exactly what that was. But she could wait until she got him settled. He needed to eat and he needed to rest. Somewhere in fulfilling those needs, she'd find what was going on with him.

The elevator had just passed the fourth floor when the car shuddered again. This time, the overhead lights flickered, too. She tightened her grip on him at the same time he tightened his on her.

Without warning, Peter screamed, "CUT IT OUT!"

The shout startled her and she jumped, but whatever was going on stopped and the elevator continued without further incident. Peter leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you, but this is really pissing me off."

Jody pulled away enough to see his eyes and asked, "Peter, what is _this_?"

Peter's expressions always told her what was going on inside of him and this time was no exception. A blend of fear, anger, and frustration wisped across his pale features.

"I – I wish to hell I knew, Jody. I really do."

"Peter, what makes you think you'll be any safer here than you were at the hospital? It seems whatever this thing is that's affecting the power and machinery around you is actually following you."

Unmasked guilt flooded his gaze and he looked away. She was grateful he had turned from her, because she couldn't have handled his remorse a second longer. He wiped a hand across his mouth, and then whispered, "Leaving the hospital wasn't to help me, Jody. It was to keep the hospital and its patients safe from harm."

She put a hand to his chin and turned his face towards hers. "Harm? What kind of harm are you talking about?"

The elevator doors opened, but the car was only partially at their floor. It was a good four feet lower than it should have been. "Ah, crap," Peter cursed as he stared at the door.

Jody pulled him towards the opening, rising on her tiptoes to get a good view of the hallway. "I'm not spending another moment longer in this thing than I have to," she said firmly.

"Injured first," she said as she nudged him forward.

Peter backed away, gesturing with one hand. "You go first."

When Jody started to protest, he cut her off, "Look, I'm not getting out of here without help. You climb out first, then help pull me out."

Jody stared at him tightlipped, then put her hands on the carpeting of the seventh floor, pulling herself up. Peter helped as much as possible, but it seemed the slightest movement sent spasms of fire through his shoulder.

In a moment, she was leaning down with outstretched hands. "Okay, let's do it. This situation is giving me the creeps."

Peter extended his good arm, reaching to find purchase on the floor above him. Jody locked her hands around his forearm and he jumped to get as high up as he could before they had to start pulling and climbing to complete the process. He groaned aloud as they worked, but eventually he was lying on the hallway, breathing hard.

The elevator doors slammed shut without warning a moment later. Jody caught his eye and shook her head. "That was too damned close."

He nodded back as she helped him to his feet. They had taken a few steps when she glanced up at him. Her worry for him grew as she felt him swaying heavily, and then saw his feet were barely keeping up with hers as they stumbled along.

"Jody," he whispered, and then fell silent.

He didn't have to say another word, she knew from experience he was about to pass out on her. She took his keys from his hand and hurried to unlock the door while supporting him against the wall with her body. They barely made it into the bedroom when he slumped forward.

She strained against his dead weight, dragging him over to the bed and then laid him down as gently as possible. She removed his shoes and pulled a comforter over him. Afraid to turn on any lights for fear of potential explosions from the mystical power surges surrounding Peter, she climbed on to the other side of the bed and sat in silence.

She watched over him, praying that the dawn would bring an end to the day's madness, but deep down, she had a sick feeling the madness was only just beginning.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Peter woke up in a rush, sure that someone was right beside him. When he found Jody sleeping quietly there, instead of some dreaded monster, he sighed with relief.

"Damned dreams," he muttered as he sat up and put his feet on the floor.

He gritted his teeth against the wave of dizziness and pounding in his head and shoulder. Rising made him regret the movement, but he had to use the bathroom. _When Mother Nature calls, one must answer_, he thought sarcastically, _or there's a heck of mess to clean up. _

He had little choice but to get up and take care of the problem. At least he was cautious in his movements, slowly crossing the bedroom to the bathroom in a manner Jody herself would have been proud of. The dizziness wasn't as bad as once he got started, but his body was growing more sore with each passing moment, as if some malicious being was turning up his pain-o-meter without mercy.

Peter didn't even realize he was deliberately walking through a dark apartment until he got to the bathroom. The small room had no windows, so there was no source of outside lighting.

He felt along the wall until he reached the shelf above the toilet. His fingers moved slowly across the items until he found what he was looking for – a cheap lighter to use with the few candles he kept there. The soft candlelight flared to life like a welcomed friend, casting away the darkness without the need for electricity or mechanical means.

His bedraggled reflection in the mirror caught his eye, making him sigh. He removed his stolen hospital gown, which left him standing in his jeans and bare chest, and he moved to examine the dressing encompassing most of his right shoulder. It was bloodied and in need of changing, but more importantly, he needed to slow down the escalating pain from his shoulder and neck. He took a couple deep breaths before beginning the Shaolin techniques his father had taught him.

Sadly, the techniques didn't help much. Maybe, it was because his bladder was begging for release – or maybe he just wasn't a very good student of the mystical world his father existed in.

At any rate, Peter quickly took care of business, then went to wash his hands, turning on the hot water. He let it warm before he started in with the soap. He had just lathered his hands when he heard a frightened scream coming from the bedroom. The scream had no sooner died away than he felt a cold breeze coming from under the door, strong enough to make the flames flicker wildly.

"Jody," he whispered and pulled open the door. He took a step into the bedroom, and stopped as a maelstrom of flying paper and other lightweight objects froze him in place with their display of impossible mobility.

Through the bizarre scene, he could see Jody backed into the far corner of the room, hands and arms attempting to protect her head.

When she saw Peter, she called to him. "Peter, stay back. There's something sharp flying with all of the other stuff!"

Peter fidgeted helplessly for another moment before he screamed, "WHOEVER YOU ARE, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY LIFE!"

Unlike in the elevator, nothing happened. At least, at first, nothing happened. Peter took a step forward and Jody screamed. "Peter, behind you!"

He spun around and gasped as he caught sight of a whispery image. So ephemeral in appearance, it seemed to be a presence beside him, yet at the same time, was something not quite there.

"Oh God," Peter whispered at the sight.

"Nooooo, not Himmmmm," came the voice again, a thousand times creepier this time, and then maniacal laughter resonated within the room.

Peter swallowed back the rush of fear as anger overrode anything else he felt and he shouted, "Why are you doing this?"

The response took him by surprise as the frightening image spoke to him using his name, but it was in a tone that froze his heart in mid-beat. "Peeeterrrrr. Lossst. Lossst. Goooo now."

As if to accentuate its statement, a ghostly hand moved forward and then vanished from his sight, but not his senses. Peter gasped as the pain in his shoulder increased without warning, leaving him with a distinct sense of déjà vu. A repeat performance from back at the hospital was playing out again. He shuddered as it felt like someone was crushing his wounded shoulder. The unrelenting pressure was enough to drop him to his knees and he groaned from the discomfort.

He didn't stay on the ground long as an unholy howl resonated in the room, raising Peter from the floor to hang midair. The ghostly figure appeared again, an evil grin looming mere inches from Peter's face. Its grip on Peter's shoulder became unbearable as it held Peter above the ground, his feet dangling helplessly.

"Goooo now. Peeeterrrrr. NOOOOWW!" came the whispered warning across the howling winds, and then the image vanished completely.

With its disappearance, Peter dropped to the ground, along with the other objects that had been spinning in the air. Everything else fell as abruptly, as if it had been a carnival ride suddenly shut down. Jody took a step towards Peter, hesitating at first as if she was afraid the vicious windstorm could start up again.

Peter rose to his knees, then fell forward. He used his good hand to keep him from falling face first into the carpeting, his chest still heaving from the tremendous pain he felt. Jody came to his side and helped steady him, bringing him upright again.

After a moment, he wiped the residue of soap lather still on his hands across the legs of his jeans for lack of anything better to use. Finally, he looked up into Jody's silent expression and found her crying. "J-Jody, are you okay?"

She nodded, despite her tears and hugged him again, this time more tightly. "Was – was that thing what you've been dealing with all day?"

He nodded and answered her breathlessly. "Yeah, it has to be. I just never got a glimpse of it until now."

"Wh–what the hell was that?"

Peter grunted with sarcasm. "_What the hell_. Now, that's an apt choice of words, Jody."

"What's that mean?"

He moved to stand and Jody helped him to his feet. "It means I have a sneaking suspicion I picked up an uninvited hitchhiker of sorts from my weekend adventure," he said cryptically, and then glanced up to see Jody's confusion.

He sighed and put a hand on Jody's shoulder. "Sorry, it's a long story, partner."

Then, he stared at the bathroom, the sound of running water resounding in the silence surrounding them. "Let me turn off the water and I'll tell you all about it."

She kept her arm around him and they made the few steps into the bathroom without another sound. Peter was surprised to see the candles still burning and he reached to shut off the hot water when he felt Jody's supporting hold on his arm tighten suddenly.

Glancing towards her, he saw her staring straight ahead and he followed her gaze to the bathroom mirror. In the flickering candlelight, he could see letters smeared across the steamy mirror. "emoh og tsum tsol nomed."

"More gibberish," Peter muttered, reaching up to smear his hand across the letters.

Jody stared at the mirror so hard that it looked like the action was causing her pain. "That – that thing can _write_?"

"Oh yeah. It's quite prolific, but this is the first mirror I've seen it do," Peter muttered as he wiped the moisture on a nearby hand towel.

"What do those letters mean?"

"If I knew that, we might be on the right track to get it out of my life."

He faltered suddenly and Jody caught him. "Okay, Peter, enough of time on your feet. You need to rest again."

Peter shook his head. "We don't have time for that."

"No, partner, we don't have time to deal with complications of not taking a break. come on, rest."

She led the way back to the bed. He hated the weakness he felt that made him rely upon her strength for the short trip. She helped him to sit, and then started brushing off the papers on the bed.

"Oh my God, Peter...look," she said in a hushed tone.

He shifted for a better view and saw every scrap of paper on the bed was covered with scribbles. The same thing over and over, _emoh_. Peter tried to swallow with the sight, but his mouth had already gone dry.

It wasn't so much from the mere sight of the unique phenomenon, but more so because of what he felt deep down in the pit of his stomach. Without meaning to, his Shaolin senses were gathering a different sort of information, a sort usually denied to him because of his lack of focus.

Those senses warned him the writing was getting angrier, as if his wayward hitchhiker felt like it was being ignored and, like an unresolved child's temper tantrum, it was building in strength and severity.

Nervously, Peter glanced around the room, but all seemed quiet. With no immediate threat, the pain of his head and shoulder was too great to ignore. Jody must have noticed, because she gently forced him down to the pillow and helped lift his feet to the bed.

It was the last act of kindness he would remember for a very long time.

**oOoOoOoOo**

"Answer your goddamned phone, TJ!" Kermit shouted as he raced along the busy side streets with his siren blaring. His speed was excessive, but was guided by a practiced hand.

He fought the desire to toss the phone across the interior of the car, and instead he hit redial. On the third ring, TJ picked up. "Hello – "

"Where the hell have you been?" Kermit barked.

"Kermit? What's happened?"

"Peter left the hospital," he said tersely.

"Where did he go? I thought he was pretty banged up."

"Yeah, well, that's never stopped him before," Kermit cursed as a car almost turned in front of him. Deftly swerving past the danger, Kermit continued, "As far as where, my first guess is back to his apartment. After that, it would be a list of possibles that we will have to eliminate one-by-one."

"Can't we call him on his cell phone?"

"That stopped working this morning. I tried Jody's, because she was with him last I heard, but I just get a weird sound after the first ring, something like heavy breathing. That's not Jody's usual style of answering unless she's turned kinky on us without warning. Peter's home phone doesn't work either. I'm on my way over there now."

"I'll meet you there."

"Good."

Kermit ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. His fingers were clenching the steering wheel tightly enough for him to feel the early stirrings of muscle cramps but he ignored the sensation.

The streets were fairly clear for that time of evening. Without the need for constant attention to the road, his thoughts drifted back to the hospital. He had stayed at the nurse's station just long enough to hear a story about exploding light fixtures and unexplained power outages. That and the nurse's concern about her patient.

Kermit shook his head as he decided the nurse's concern might have had a healthy dose of lust laced in with it. _The kid always has had a magical touch when it comes to the ladies, _he thought with a roguish grin.

The grin quickly disappeared as reality struck him. Peter was in real danger. The kind of danger Kermit could do little about. He had to find him and find him fast. What was more, TJ had to be able to rid him of his bothersome visitor.

Kermit slapped the steering wheel in disgust. "Dammit, give me a terrorist cell to take down single-handed. Widespread computer fraud. Anything, anything but this," Kermit whispered to himself.

He drove on in silence, knowing that complaining would do little to change their situation, but there was one complaint he could do little to suppress and that involved worry about what he would find when he got to Peter's.

No, it wasn't really a complaint. More like a fear. A really big fear. But one that would be left labeled as a complaint, mostly because fears were something Kermit acknowledged even less than complaints.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Jody had barely moved Peter's feet up to the bed when Peter's soft breathing rhythm indicated Peter had already fallen asleep. She smiled despite her worry, relieved to see him getting some much needed rest. Unfortunately, gauging by the expression on Peter's face, he was on the edge of another nightmare instead of peaceful dreams.

Moving as quietly as she could, she gathered up the mysterious pieces of paper scribbled with gibberish. She stacked them into a pile and dropped them into a nearby metal waste paper basket.

She paused as she caught movement within the metal container. She shook it slightly, and the papers held inside burst into flame. "Oh, shit," she muttered as she snatched up the waste paper basket and raced into the bathroom.

Jody placed the trash can inside the shower and turned it on, twisting the knobs as fast as she could to douse the flames before they set off the building's fire alarm and awakened Peter.

Once she was sure there was no risk of danger, she turned off the shower and bent down to dump the water from the trash container down the shower drain. Jody gasped as the liquid pouring from the can was blood red. The viscous fluid had a malodorous scent emanating from the ashy remnants in the basket and she put one hand over her nose and mouth as she grimaced in disgust.

She stood, leaving the trash can inside the shower stall and rubbed her wet hands against her jeans, staring at the trash can in disbelief. "What in the world?"

Then she heard Peter screaming in agony in the bedroom. The tone of his cries indicated such great pain that she held her breath without realizing it. She drew her weapon, half expecting to see an attacker standing over him.

Her thoughts flew through her mind in rapid fire, but there was one that stood out. Namely, how a run-of-the-mill assailant would be much preferred to the disturbing trend of creepiness she'd seen so far. Unfortunately, she didn't think their luck was that good as she dashed from the bathroom.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Peter was vaguely aware of the scent of something burning, and then he wondered if that was the reason behind the heat he felt in his shoulder and neck, but before he could consider it further, his entire body turned into fire. He tried to scream, but he could barely breathe, let alone speak and he bolted upright, finding himself alone in his bed.

Peter's chest heaved with great gasps and he wrapped his arms around his bare chest in protection from the fleeing nightmare. He fell back to his pillow as he curled up in defense against the burning pain he felt all over his body. He was sweating and in the darkness, he could feel the sweat dripping onto the sheets under him.

Finally, he steadied himself and looked out the window to see a dark sky. The normally visible stars were hidden by clouds. He suddenly wished for morning, mostly because he felt he'd be safer with the sunlight than the darkness. He raised a shaky hand before him. In the meager light, he saw his hand was slick. He blinked and looked more closely. The moisture was dark – dark with blood.

He started to reach for his bedside lamp, then stopped, recalling the recent problems concerning power. Instead, he pulled open a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a flashlight.

The added light caused him to draw in a ragged breath. Long, thin scratches were etched across his exposed skin, leaving him covered in blood. He threw back the comforter Jody had placed over him and rose from the bed, intending to go into the bathroom for a closer look, but sagged against the dresser when his strength left him.

"This is just a very vivid nightmare. I'm going to wake up any second," he whispered in futile self-comfort.

"Petteeerrrr...lisssstennn orrrrrr die," a voice whispered behind him and the burning strikes across his skin ignited again, making him realize he wasn't dreaming at all. His waking world was narrowing down to a living nightmare.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Jody ran from the bathroom with her weapon out to see a shaky Peter staggering beside his dresser, latching onto the wooden furniture for support. She went to him. "Peter?"

He glanced at her, appearing to be on the verge of passing out again. "Jody? Help me."

"Come on, partner," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him and led him back into the bathroom. She closed the seat to the toilet and settled him atop it.

"My God, Peter, what's happened now?" she whispered softly.

The flickering candlelight revealed more detail to Peter's latest injuries, a swarm of bleeding scratches over every bit of exposed skin and the sight rattled her.

She squeezed her fists together and gathered her wits. Peter was her priority. Pushing her emotions aside, she focused on first aid. After splashing water on a washcloth, she rang it out and started pressing it against the wounds bleeding the most heavily. Peter hissed with the new source of pain, making her cringe with guilt.

"Geez, that hurts," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"Sorry," she whispered as she drew the washcloth away, but his grimaces only grew.

Finally, he groaned outright. She placed her fingers over his and he squeezed her hand tightly. "God, Jody, it feels like there's acid inside the cuts."

She pulled a candle closer to his back and actually saw bubbles on the cuts, like the skin had festered in those brief moments. The sight nearly caused her to drop the candle. Peter was shaking so badly that he could barely stay upright and Jody knew she didn't have much time to act. She set the candle on the counter top, kicked the ash-filled trash can out of the way, and turned on the water in the shower, guessing at the settings for a comfortable water temperature.

When she turned around, Peter was bent forward with one hand across his stomach, and the other reaching across to the sink in a desperate attempt to remain upright. She gasped as her gaze was drawn to the countless number of thin scratches across his arms and chest.

He fell forward, nearly tumbling off the toilet, but Jody caught him in time before he hit the floor. "Sorry, partner, but this is going to hurt like hell. Unfortunately, I can't think of an easier way to do this, and you're bleeding too much to wait for another idea, so you can yell at me later when you can breathe again."

She pulled him into the shower, stepping into the stream of water fully clothed with Peter. Wet clothes were the least of her worries. She drew him closer to her as he began to flail his arms in an attempt to escape the new source of pain, then he screamed.

Peter's sudden howl of anguish stunned her for a moment, and he dropped to his knees before she could tighten her hold on him and pull him back up to her. She grabbed a sponge that was in the shower and rubbed it gently across the injured skin, hoping to wash away as much of the unknown irritant as possible before Peter suffered even more damage.

Once she was satisfied that the cuts were clean, she spared one hand to turn off the water. Peter sagged against her when the water stopped and she feared he had passed out, but then he groaned and she knew he was still with her. Huffing with exertion, she moved from the shower and led him back to the closed toilet seat.

Grabbing a towel, she wrapped the soft absorbent material around his shoulders and lifted his chin as she bent down to check on him. "Peter?" she whispered.

He had his eyes still squeezed shut and she pushed him back to lean against the wall, feeling more helpless than she had felt in the last twenty-four hours. She pulled the light colored towel back and cringed as she saw it soaked with his blood. The least the burning substance could have done was cauterize the cuts for all the pain it had caused him.

There was pounding at the front door and she cursed under her breath. "What now? A visit from Beetlejuice?"

She glanced toward the knocking at the door and back to Peter's crouched body, rocking as he dealt with his pain. "Come on, Peter, there's no way in hell I'm leaving you alone again."

He was still slick with water and blood, so she grabbed him by the back of his belt and pulled him up to her. He groaned with pain and a warning. "Jody... no," he whispered.

Briefly, she wondered if he was warning her to stop, or warning her to continue. She had no way of knowing the right answer, so she continued to the front door. They had just entered the living room when something grabbed Peter by the ankle and yanked him away from her.

She fell back without Peter's body to hold and she banged her head on the living room coffee table. Peter cried out, a howling scream that cut to Jody's heart. Darkness was threatening to envelop her, but her worry for Peter kept her semiconscious – just enough to know she was unable to do anything to help him.

A moment later, she heard the front door being kicked in and the next thing she knew, Kermit was leaning over her. She heard someone calling her name and patting her on the cheek a few times. "Jody, Jody, can you hear me?"

"Kermit," she murmured and started to fade again.

Blinking to stay conscious, she caught whispery glimpses of the ex-merc.

"Kermit, watch out," she managed. She took a deep breath, hoping it would help strengthen her, but it didn't. She mumbled, "Something's – something's got Peter. Something... grabbed... him away from me."

The Desert Eagle suddenly loomed above her – the huge thing damned hard to miss, even in her state. She watched helplessly as Kermit swept through the apartment. Her hold on consciousness was growing stronger, but the pounding of her head was enough to threaten to put her out completely.

With all the determination she could muster, she forced herself upright, only to realize she couldn't see Kermit or Peter any longer and the apartment was frighteningly silent.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Kermit found Peter unconscious just inside his bedroom. The floor was cluttered with miscellaneous objects and books, as if a tornado had blown through, one that only hit Peter's bedroom.

He spied a glowing flashlight lying beside the bed, pointing at his feet. Kermit picked it up, and used the light source to quickly search the area. After he checked the bedroom and bath for hostiles, he hurried back to Peter, stopping short when he got his first good look at his friend. Peter was shirtless and barefooted, lying face down in the tan carpeting. His hair and jeans were soaking wet.

Kermit grimaced as he took note of the countless freely flowing cuts all over Peter's back and arms. The blood dripping from the cuts was pooling in the carpeting beneath him.

"You're not going to get your security deposit back this way, kid," he whispered as he knelt beside Peter.

Peter didn't respond.

"Peter?" Kermit called his name again, but there still was no reaction. Leaning closer, Kermit patted Peter's pale cheek. "Peter? Come on, kid, answer me."

Kermit holstered his gun and set the flashlight on the carpet, then positioned his hands over the least affected areas of Peter's arms in order to turn him over. The heated feel to Peter's skin and the fact that he wasn't reacting to the movement at all only added to Kermit's concern.

Again, he patted Peter on the cheek and called his name. Peter wasn't moving, so Kermit put a hand to Peter's carotid artery to check for life. The pulse was fast and thready but there. After another moment, Kermit could see the slight, rapid rise and fall of Peter's chest. Peter had been through the ringer, but he was still alive.

"Let's keep it that way," Kermit said as he pulled a comforter from the bed and placed it over Peter.

"Is he okay?" a small voice asked from the doorway.

Kermit glanced up to see Jody leaning against the doorjamb. Her gaze was unfocused, but she was standing and more concerned about Peter than herself. He nodded and grabbed a couple pillows from the bed, placing them under Peter's feet to elevate them.

"He's lost a lot of blood. What happened?" Kermit said as he pulled another blanket from the bed and tucked it tightly around Peter's unmoving form.

Jody stammered, fear and disbelief radiating from her blue eyes. "I – I don't know. It was like something from a really bad horror movie."

"Why are both of you wet?" Kermit asked, throwing a blanket around her shoulders and pulled her over to sit on the bed before she collapsed.

"After those... scratches just appeared, Peter starting screaming something like they felt like there was acid in them. I remembered what the paramedics did at the precinct and pulled him into the shower to wash the cuts with water. That was right before you got here."

She rubbed at the back of her head. Kermit lifted her hair to look more closely after seeing blood on her fingertips. Without a word, Kermit grabbed one of Peter's t-shirts from an open drawer, using it to press against the bleeding site.

"And how did you get the knot on the back of your head?" he asked as he left her to go back to Peter's side, gently slapping Peter's cheek in another attempt to rouse him.

Jody swallowed. "You were knocking at the door and I had Peter with me, going to open the door for you when, all of a sudden, Peter was jerked away from me. I fell back and hit my head on something," she paused, staring down at Peter, "Is he going to be all right?"

Kermit shrugged. "Wish I knew, but we better get him back to the hospital."

Without thinking about it, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started punching numbers, and then snapped it closed in frustration when he realized it wasn't working.

"Dead?" Jody asked.

"Oh yeah," he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Not to worry, TJ is on his way. We'll get Peter to the hospital one way or another."

Jody put a hand to her forehand and rubbed it. "Wish that made me feel better, but I don't think Peter is going to be safe until that... thing is taken care of."

Kermit stared at her for a moment before he glanced at his watch. The glowing dial showed a stopped secondhand. Even his watch refused to work in the dead zone surrounding Peter Caine. Hopefully, whatever was draining the energy around Peter wouldn't sap his life force with its frightening chicanery.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Peter heard someone groaning and opened his eyes to see he was the one making the noise. He saw Jody and Kermit perched at his side in the meager light provided by a flashlight.

Seeing the flashlight triggered a cascade of memories, just as his pain flared anew.

"God," he rasped with eyes squeezed tight.

Jody clasped his hand in hers and he drew from her strength. After a moment, he was able to tolerate the pain and he opened his eyes again.

"Still with us?" Kermit asked.

Peter nodded and smiled weakly at Jody. "I told you I didn't know when this roller-coaster ride would end."

"It's okay, I'm buckled in," she whispered back to him.

"You strong enough to sit up?" Kermit asked. "We need to check on that bleeding."

Peter grimaced at the thought of moving, but nodded anyway. He felt himself being raised. Bile rose but Peter swallowed it back and leaned heavily against Kermit's support.

Peter stuttered, fear echoing in his voice, "Wh–what about... the thing that caused this?"

"Don't worry. We haven't seen any more sign of trouble since I got here," Kermit's voice was low and grim as his gaze swept around the room one more time. He glanced back at Peter and smirked. "Maybe it got bored with your grating personality and left on its own accord."

Peter chuckled, and then regretted it. Through clenched teeth, he whispered, "More likely, it's waiting for the next opportunity to strike."

Kermit patted him on the leg gently. "TJ's on his way...with his magic kit of goodies."

"That's good," Peter said as he felt himself hoisted to his feet. "Oh, God, this hurts," he murmured as he struggled to get his footing.

Peter's skin tone seemed to go a shade paler. Kermit knew Peter was going into shock caused by his injuries and blood loss, and he had to keep Peter conscious. Kermit slapped Peter's cheek again and was rewarded with Peter's slowly opening eyes. "Still with us, kid?"

Peter managed a weak smile and nodded.

"Like a bad penny," he whispered. "Kermit, something tells me it's gonna get worse before it gets better."

Peter drew his arms tightly around his chest, but couldn't suppress the low groan that escaped with the movement. "I just wish I knew how much worse and how long it's gonna last."

Kermit caught Jody's troubled gaze. "Come on, Jody, let's move him into the bathroom and start cleaning him up until TJ arrives."

The flowing blood made it hard for Kermit and Jody to get a good grip on him, but they managed and the small room made maneuvering difficult for the threesome, but they didn't stop until Peter was sitting on his makeshift perch.

Cautiously, Kermit pulled away the comforter from Peter's shoulders and frowned. The bedding was soaked with blood and the cuts showed no sign of clotting. Peter watched Kermit's expression closely in the flickering candlelight.

"It's that bad?" he asked breathlessly.

"It's not good," Kermit replied as he looked through the cabinet for a first aid kit.

Jody's sarcasm broke through the tension enveloping all of them. "I don't think Peter has enough bandaids to handle this job, not unless he's got an industrial size kit. On second thought, this is Peter we're talking about. They probably give him a wholesale discount rate at the store."

Kermit silenced Jody's chuckle with a single glance, but it was her incredulous expression that next drew the two men's attention. Again, Peter followed her gaze to the mirror and his mouth dropped open.

Even in his incapacitated state, Peter was able to make out the letters on the mirror, tsol nomed, but this time, the letters were etched into the glass in the same thin lines as the scratches on his body.

Peter stammered,"Th–that wasn't there when Jody and I were here a few minutes ago."

"Nothing is going to surprise me about this whole affair," Kermit said, but his voice reflected his barely suppressed bewilderment.

"Then you have no idea of what you are dealing with. I know what it is and I'm not embarrassed to say that it has me quaking in my boots," TJ's grim words resounded in the small room as he stood in the bathroom doorway.

With that announcement, Peter's body shook more violently.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

TJ Kincaid stared at the threesome crowded into the small bathroom and shook his head. He wondered once again what the hell he was doing there. He wasn't a professional well versed in the supernatural. He was just a cop. But then, he took one look at Peter, catching Peter's haggard gaze so full of torment, and he knew exactly why he was there. He only prayed he was capable of succeeding with Peter where he had failed Lydia in the past.

"It's about time you got here," Kermit groused.

The ex-merc threw a couple thick towels around Peter's shoulders as Peter trembled from shock. TJ didn't even bother locking horns with Kermit. Kermit was in full protective mode, so TJ bypassed the anger in Kermit's statement by changing subjects.

"Your sister's been trying to get hold of you," he said without expression.

Kermit looked surprised by the announcement, and a rare blend of worry, fear, and vulnerability crossed the man's expression before he hid it away.

TJ continued, "Your cell phone is dead like Jody and Peter's. Mine's probably dead by now, too. She was trying to reach you and Broderick knew of the problems you guys were having with your cell phones, so he transferred the call to mine, knowing I had just checked in with our requests for time off tomorrow."

TJ's gaze went back to Peter, and he leaned forward enough to pull back the towels. He frowned and picked up a candle, bringing it closer to Peter's torso for closer examination. Peter didn't make the task any easier, mostly because his discomfort was so great he was barely able to sit still.

TJ whistled and straightened, replacing the candle to its previous perch. "I bet that stings," he said softly.

His understatement made Peter laugh despite his pain. "Yeah, you could say that."

Kermit cut through the humor. "Can you help him?"

TJ didn't answer, only motioned toward the bedroom. "Move him in there and bring all the candles you can find."

TJ went to a small duffle bag and unzipped it. He pulled a few items from it as Kermit escorted Peter to the bed, nearly carrying him along as his weakened state rendered him unable to walk on his own.

Jody carried the rectangle trash can that had held burning messages earlier, holding it so that its longest side could hold several of the lit candles. She distributed the candles around the room, and then went to help with Peter.

Peter groaned as they settled him. Jody was about to help him lie down when TJ stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He knelt before Peter with several small bottles in one hand.

"Peter, those scratches of yours aren't anything modern medicine can help. They will bleed and fester until you die of blood loss or a raging infection for which there is no earthly cure. That's because they were created by something not of this earth. At least, not any longer."

Peter swallowed and nodded to let TJ know he was following the conversation.

TJ glanced downward for a moment before looking back at Peter again. He lifted the hand with the small glass bottles up for Peter to see. "This is the only cure I know for removing the demon's touch."

Peter looked at the bottles, then back to TJ in confusion. His expression grew more serious as he asked, "Okay...what's the catch? Why do you seem hesitant to use it?"

TJ closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Peter, if you think the pain you are feeling right now is bad, pouring this holy water on the cuts will probably launch you into orbit."

Peter flinched, as if the thought of more pain was something he simply couldn't comprehend. TJ put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "If it's any consolation, you'll be feeling a lot better when it's over."

Jody sat down beside Peter, concern marking her features. "TJ, isn't there something else we can do? Peter's already been through enough."

TJ cut her off. "No, I'm afraid not. At least, not that I know of and I've been studying the subject for years – "

Peter's voice was filled with determination as he interrupted. "Just do it."

TJ glanced up at Kermit who nodded once. TJ sighed and stood. He placed the bottles on the night stand and spoke without turning back to face him. "Peter, I'm going to have Jody and Kermit hold you in place. We are going to have to do this with you sitting up, so I can do the front and back as quickly as possible."

He turned to them, pausing from his task of changing the caps on the bottles to speak to them. "You two will have to hold him tight. He's going buck like a wild bronco and if he gets loose, it's only going to take that much longer to finish the job. Jody, can you please remove the bandages from his shoulder?"

Jody silently began the task and Peter barely acknowledged the pull of the adhesive on his skin, almost as if that small insult was nothing compared to what he had already endured and he was about to suffer.

Peter was deep in thought when TJ approached him. His expression seemed on the verge of losing his resolution when he looked up at TJ. "There's no other way?"

TJ shook his head. Peter shrugged slightly, visibly pushing away his fears as he whispered. "I won't accidentally hurt Kermit or Jody, will I? I won't be that out of it to hurt them, right?"

TJ felt a great rush of pity for Peter; it figured the man would be more concerned for his friends than himself.

Peter continued to stammer, "It's just...it's just that today's been overflowing with accidents. Wouldn't it be easier to just knock me out, and then do it?"

TJ smiled sadly. "No, because you have to be a willing participant in this rite. Peter, you realize I'm not an officially sanctioned representative of any church or religion. If you wish, I can call someone – "

"Stop, TJ, let's just get it over and done with," Peter whispered through clenched teeth. "Who knows what could happen to any of us in the time we would waste to get someone else here?"

TJ motioned to Jody and Kermit to assume their positions at Peter's side. Once they were in place, TJ spoke softly, but couldn't keep the tone of authority from his voice.

"Peter Matthew Caine, do you rebuke the power of this demon over you?"

Peter answered, though his voice trembled with trepidation. "Yes, I do."

TJ raised the first bottle with the specialized caps he'd added, one designed like a saltshaker cap to facilitate the spread of the blessed liquid. "Then, in the name of the most holy God on high, I proclaim you cannot harm this body any longer, demon! Your touch can no longer pierce his skin now that this holy water is protecting him!"

He looked at Jody, then to Kermit and they tightened their grip on Peter. Without another sound, TJ began sprinkling the water over the front of Peter's chest and things started happening quickly.

Peter's hoarse cries of pain cut through the room and TJ's heart, with the intensity of his suffering, but he consciously ignored Peter's screams and kept sprinkling the lifesaving water over each and every cut.

TJ had been expecting a battle from Peter, but the first attack came from elsewhere. A book flew through air without warning and knocked the glass bottle from TJ's hand, causing it to shatter against the wall.

TJ whirled around, realizing the danger to all of them had just mushroomed into something much more menacing. Not hesitating, TJ scooped up another bottle and resumed his task. Objects started flying around the room as a wind from hell began to pick up.

"Here we go again," Jody whispered as she adjusted her hold on Peter.

As TJ continued to douse the front of Peter's chest, he spoke words of grim encouragement to the others. "It must be working for the demon to fight us outright like this."

"How damned long is this going to take?" Kermit asked through clenched teeth.

"As long as it takes," TJ answered as he ducked a wooden paperweight.

"Great, we've got a Zen exorcist in our midst," Kermit grumbled.

Jody gasped when a book hit her squarely on the elbow, but she didn't loosen her hold on Peter.

Kermit glared at TJ in frustration. "Isn't there anything we can do to stop this windstorm?" he barked right before a picture frame hit him in the back.

TJ answered him without stopping. "We're doing it."

"That's reassuring," Kermit growled as he shifted on the bed to shake off the impact on his back.

"Oh my God, look!" Jody exclaimed, finally getting a view of the effect of the holy water on Peter's cuts. The cuts were bubbling as if TJ was pouring hydrogen peroxide over an infection instead of holy water on freshly bleeding wounds.

The smell rising from the reaction was a sickening blend of roses and sulfur, something that would have normally turned TJ's stomach if he hadn't been so involved in accomplishing his goal.

Peter had been reacting to the initial contact of the water on the upper levels of the skin, but as the holy water worked its way deeper, Peter's involuntary responses became more violent.

"Arrrrrrrrghhhh!" he cried.

TJ ducked a flying ceramic Buddha and focused the spray of water onto Peter's shoulder. Those cuts were the deepest and would be the most difficult to heal. The resounding crash of the Buddha against the wall told TJ the impact against his body would have been staggering.

Still, he couldn't stop now even if he wanted to. Peter was trying to come up off the bed and Jody and Kermit were having a tough time restraining him.

"Arrrrrrrrghhhh! Stop, you're killing me! Please, God, stop them!"

Kermit went up on one knee and forced Peter back down. "Can't we knock him out now? The case for voluntary participation is about to fly right out the window."

"No, there's nothing we can do but keep going. I'm done with the front. I need another bottle and I'll start on his back."

"Dammit, Kincaid, just do it and cut the commentary," Kermit growled.

TJ nodded and rounded the bed, only to be hit in the back of the head with a thick wooden dish. The blow knocked him to the floor, but he was careful to shield the holy water to keep it from shattering.

TJ staggered to his feet with his thoughts focused solely on Peter. It was hard to ignore the sight of Peter's writhing body and the difficulties Jody and Kermit were having, not to mention the increased speed of the flying objects in the room.

"We're almost there, Peter. Hang in there," he said, wondering if the comforting words were said for Peter's benefit or his own.

There was a mighty rumbling in the four walls surrounding them right before the air was filled with unholy shrieks. The screams merged into one echoing voice. "Leaaaave, Peeettteerr alonnnnnne. Leaaaave himmmmm."

"Demon, say your name and purpose for choosing Peter!" TJ commanded.

A maniacal laughter filled the air. "I ammmm Deeeeemon. I ammmm Leeeegion. I ammmm invinssssible."

A vile stench filled the air, affecting all four humans enough to make them grimace. "Peeeeterrrrr issss minnnne."

"I cast you away in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost," TJ began reciting the memorized passage he'd studied so long ago.

His voice caught in his chest as he turned to find a bodiless head floating before him. TJ reacted in fear, but it turned out to be the best course of action he could take. Using the holy water, he shook it at the apparition.

A howling borne of hell shook the room and its occupants as the blasting windstorm picked up speed. Looking down, TJ saw Peter's skin continue to boil with the visual battle between good and evil and TJ found himself praying for the side of good. If he could pull Peter back from the demon's clutches, maybe there was hope for freeing Lydia one day.

He shook the bottle so fast that his hand seemed to be a blur of motion. His gaze was constantly searching for the next site to work on, but there came a moment when he realized he was done.

He stood gasping with spent adrenaline, but the battle wasn't over by any means. The maelstrom enveloping them was continuing to increase in speed and deadliness. Peter was out of his mind with pain, along with all the emotions associated with it.

Jody and Kermit were still managing to keep a grip on Peter but their hold was tenuous at best. TJ dropped the empty bottle and moved in from the rear to help hold Peter in place.

Moments crept into minutes and TJ could feel his own muscles quivering with exhaustion, but without warning, Peter's body tensed into a massive spasm. His body arched off the sheets as he screamed a frightening cry that reminded TJ of a banshee's death cry. As his lungs emptied with the scream, he slumped back to the bed like a dead weight.

The three dropped down to the mattress with him, suspecting a possible ploy from Peter to escape their hold – that he might bolt forward as they relaxed their hold, but nothing happened. In fact, Peter didn't move again. Even the objects that had been flying in the air fell to the ground in defeat.

"Is he still alive?" Jody whispered breathlessly.

TJ felt for a pulse and was rewarded with a strong, racing heart rate. He nodded as he rubbed Peter's sweaty skin. There was an oily coat of residue left, the final remnants of the battle of holy water and demon's touch. Miraculously, the cuts were gone. All of them. Even the deep festering ones on his shoulder.

TJ smiled victoriously, but his deep gasps for air kept the celebration to a minimum. Peter's physical afflictions had been healed, but he hadn't been able to force the demon to say two vital statements that were usually required before a demoniac was free of its haunting.

A small voice inside of TJ warned things might actually get worse before they got better, especially if they couldn't convince the demon to leave Peter alone.

"We did it?" Jody asked hoarsely.

When TJ didn't answer her right away, Kermit grabbed his arm. "Are we done or not?"

"I couldn't get the demon to say its name or why it was trying to claim Peter," TJ said, almost apologetically.

"We know the reason why, because of what we were doing at the Gables. And I don't give a damn about the demon's name," Kermit shot back at TJ.

TJ sighed and fidgeted for a moment. "Trust me, Kermit, it's important in making sure the demon leaves Peter alone. It's very important. Maybe we should get a real priest over here, someone well versed in exorcism. I know a few. I could call – "

Kermit interrupted him. "We don't have time for that and you know it."

"Isn't there something else we can do here ourselves, TJ?" Jody asked as she moved to her feet.

TJ paused, pushing himself away from Peter and stood. "For the moment, this holy water has burned the unholy presence from Peter's wounds, but..."

"But what?"

"It won't remove the demon's mark from Peter's neck."

"The demon's mark?" Kermit repeated, "I thought you said the holy water got rid of it."

TJ shook his head. "We removed the demon's touch, but not the mark. We can't do that here."

Jody joined the conversation as she stretched out sore muscles. "What the heck is the demon's mark?"

TJ moved to Peter and raised his limp torso so the others could see the red, inflamed area at the back of Peter's neck. "That is the demon's mark."

Kermit glanced at it, then to TJ. "Looks like a weird burn. Why didn't the holy water heal that like it did the scratches?"

TJ returned Peter to his previous position. "Because this is how the demon was able to stay with Peter. And it's how Peter was subjected to the brunt of the demon's ire."

"How's that?"

TJ sighed and walked to a nearby window. "The demon must have place its mark on Peter while you were at the Gables. It doesn't take much, the briefest of contacts will do it. Then it was tied to Peter. The next step was for it to claim Peter as his, but when you left the Gables before the demon could complete the process, the demon was forced to go with you and became lost."

"How can you be so sure about this?" Kermit asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

"Because Lydia had the same mark, but at the time, I had no idea what that meant."

Kermit's gaze darted downward briefly before going back to TJ. "Sorry, I don't mean to doubt you, but we've had a tough time and I want to be sure we're on the right track."

TJ smiled sadly. "We're on the right track."

Jody leaned forward. "Excuse me, but who's Lydia?"

TJ sighed and scratched at his eyebrow as he looked at Peter's still form. "Someone who didn't survive what Peter's about to face. Someone who shouldn't have ever been placed in harm's way."

His voice dropped off. Long moments passed without TJ noticing it until he felt Jody's hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, TJ, that you lost someone you cared about, truly I am, but we don't get our act together, we're gonna lose Peter, too."

TJ nodded and took a deep breath to gather his courage. Lydia would still be there in his thoughts when he had more time to reflect about the past.

"TJ, can you explain all those messages Peter's been getting?" Jody asked.

"The notes? I heard about those."

TJ gave her his full attention, but couldn't keep the sadness from his expression. "Do you have any of them left?"

Jody shook her head. "No, the ones I found on the bed burst into flame."

Kermit reached into a pocket and pulled out one in a plastic evidence bag. He handed it to TJ without comment. TJ walked over to the dresser mirror and shone the flashlight for better viewing.

Jody and Kermit followed him. Jody read the word visible in the mirror's reflection aloud, "Lost."

TJ nodded. "A mirror image. Visually, everything is reversed to the lost demon. It was trying to communicate with Peter in its limited way – but if Peter returns to the Gables as requested, if he returns to the site of the initial contact and the demon is successful, Peter's soul could be lost forever."

"Forever?"

TJ hesitated. "Well, possibly. I have been studying everything I could find on the subject and the one thing I've discovered is there's no absolutes when dealing with the netherworld."

"What happens if we don't return to the Gables with Peter?"

"The demon will continue to inflict torture upon Peter until he dies, thus freeing the demon to return to the Gables on its own."

"Even with the holy water's protection?" Jody asked with hesitation, the wealth of new information clearly overwhelming her.

"Yeah, unfortunately. The demon will resort to more drastic measures... something like what we saw with the flying objects – death by blunt force, so to speak."

Kermit spoke first. "Well, that's encouraging. The complete opposite of a win – win scenario, if I ever saw one."

"I told you it wouldn't be easy."

TJ shifted to ease the pain at the base of his skull where the object had struck him, then glanced up at Kermit. "Kermit, your sister's family is in real trouble."

Kermit swung around and eyed TJ ominously. "Why?"

"Your niece is in peril." He paused and locked onto Kermit's gaze before he said, "Many of the things your sister described are similar to what Peter has been dealing with."

Kermit cursed under his breath, reacting like a self-contained detonation, one burning with an internal fire. TJ kept on talking, hoping it would give Kermit enough time to cool down.

"The situations are similar, but not identical – "

Kermit had other ideas. "I'm going up there," he announced, but before he could leave, TJ caught his arm.

One withering glare prompted TJ to remove his hand, slowly and carefully, but he left the hand hanging in Kermit's direction as he said, "You need to know what's going on before you rush out."

Kermit's gaze darted around the room in quiet desperation before he took a deep breath and folded both arms in front of him.

"Enlighten me," he said, then added, "And do it quickly."

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It took all Kermit possessed to stand in place and listen, instead of tearing up the road to Braselton, but he managed. The thought of his sister's family enduring even more trouble made his blood boil. They'd been through so much; it seemed cruel for them suffer any more, especially with this kind of trouble.

TJ stared at him with an intensity that mushroomed Kermit's agitation but he spoke before Kermit could go nuclear. "From what Marilyn told me, your niece, Mitch, is going through much the same thing as Peter. Not quite as vicious, but just as scary."

TJ squared his shoulders and continued, "It's a bad omen. What with the demon here attacking Peter, and another demon at your sister's attacking your niece. It – it sounds like Caine was mistaken when he thought they'd closed the portal to hell. If we don't do something fast, the horrors your family went through this weekend will only be a prelude to something much, much worse."

"Dammit, she's just a kid," Kermit muttered, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

"You can't go up there alone, Kermit. If you do, everyone will die, and it will be an unnecessary sacrifice. We must go together," TJ said softly, but firmly.

Kermit didn't like it, but he accepted TJ's statement at face value. As much as he hated to rely on others, he had to trust TJ's judgment in this matter.

Kermit rubbed his face, and asked, "Will Peter be okay here or should we move him to the hospital?"

TJ placed a hand on Kermit's shoulder. "Kermit, Peter isn't going to be okay anywhere. He has to go with us, too."

A graveled voice chimed in from the bed. "He's right, Kermit. I have to go to Braselton with you."

"Peter," Kermit said, as he moved toward the bed.

Jody straightened in surprise. She had been listening to TJ and Kermit as she sat at Peter's side. With Peter's comment, she took his hand.

The only one not moving was TJ and he stood in place, shock evident in his stilted movements. Finally, he spoke, "Peter, I thought you'd be out for a while."

Peter grimaced as he struggled to sit up and failed. "Wish I was."

"But is the pain gone?" Jody asked, placing her hand lightly on his bare chest as his blankets slipped down.

Peter nodded slowly, fatigue lining his features, and placed his hand over hers. "Yeah, mostly. Now, it's just my head where I hit the wall at the precinct."

His dark gaze met each of the three surrounding him. "So, it worked?"

TJ smiled and did a pretty good Kermit Griffin imitation. "Oh yeah."

Jody brushed her fingers across Peter's shoulder. "Look, Ma, no scars."

Peter's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he pulled back the blanket. He verified what he was seeing by bringing his own fingers across the smooth skin. "How the hell?" he started.

Peter swallowed and Kermit could only imagine what was running through Peter's head. For a moment, Kermit was sure Peter's thoughts were about what he'd just survived, but as usual, they were on those still in trouble.

"I heard what you were saying about Mitch, Kermit," Peter said, finally able to sit up. "We better get up there fast. This nightmare is hard enough to tolerate as an adult, let alone as a kid. I guess I'm the only one around who can imagine what Mitch is going through right now. Besides, this whole mess started at the Gables and that's where it's going to end... one way or another."

"Fine, if we're all going to go, we better get moving. It's a long drive," Kermit said.

**oOoOoOoOo**

The night's cloak of darkness cast the rural road they were traveling on into a forbidden wasteland. TJ shook his head slightly, forcing himself out of the self-induced hypnotic effect of night driving. It was long after midnight and he was tired, tired and worried about the events yet to come.

He caught a glimpse of a full moon cresting on the horizon behind them in his rearview mirror. Gratitude mixed with relief as he looked at the sight. For with the slow rise of the silvery luminescence behind them, TJ felt hope rise within his heart. Hope that could chase away the bleakness the darkness had been painting on the landscape of the night. Hope that eventually night would give way to day. Hope for the survival of all those involved in their battle against the demon. Hope, though such a fragile thing, could also inspire mighty strength of spirit from nothing.

TJ glanced around the car's occupants and he was glad they had taken his sedan. The extra room in his car had allowed Peter to stretch out in the backseat. He was leaning against Jody, using her for a human pillow as he dozed fitfully. Everyone had been locked into their own silent musings, so words had been kept at a minimum on the way up.

Then, in the quiet stillness of the drive, Peter asked, "Isn't that the turnoff for Marilyn's house?"

TJ nodded, but Kermit answered for him. "Marilyn's at a friend's house nearby. The friends are out of town, but gave her a key to keep an eye on the place while they are gone. She felt safer there when things started up again at the Gables."

"Did you talk to her?" Peter asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Yeah, briefly. You were sleeping," Kermit replied, and then grunted. "Scared the crap out of me when the cell phone rang. That thing hasn't worked for hours."

"How is she?" Peter leaned forward.

Kermit didn't say anything for a minute. "How's she supposed to be with this shit going on?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he whispered and patted Kermit on the shoulder before sitting back in his seat beside Jody.

All of a sudden, the car started lurching, its engine racing one moment, then missing the next. The entire group stiffened, immediately suspecting more demon mayhem. The car sputtered once more, then it died. TJ tried to restart the engine, but it wouldn't turn over.

"Pop the hood," Kermit said.

He opened his car door and stood, but stopped when Peter spoke. "It won't work," Peter said, dropping his head back to the seat.

"What?" Kermit asked, leaning inside.

Peter slammed a fist against his car door. "Don't you get it? We didn't hear a peep from that thing the whole trip up here, but the moment we pass the turnoff to the Gables, the frigging car breaks down! It doesn't want us to go anywhere but there!"

TJ turned in his seat and nodded. "I should have thought of it myself. It's been too easy."

Jody leaned forward. "How far is it to Marilyn's friend's house?"

TJ scratched his head. "Not far. According to the directions she gave us, about half a mile, I think."

Jody patted him on the shoulder. "Then we walk."

TJ opened his car door and stood, then warily stretched out the kinks from the trip. Jody emerged from the passenger door behind his. She caught TJ's eye and winked. "Ghostbusters, on the job," she whispered, apparently hoping a little humor would lighten the mood, but it didn't.

"Wrong movie, sweetcheeks," Kermit said as he walked around the front of the car. "This scenario is playing out more like Poltergeist, but in living technicolor. And there's not a damned thing funny about what's been going on."

Peter got out of the car and slammed the door closed, then ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought. His action drew the attention of the other three, but it took a moment before he noticed. His head jerked up when he realized they were all staring at him.

"Ah, come on, are we going to stand around here or are we going to walk?"

Not waiting for an answer, he headed down the road with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. Jody sighed and took off after him. TJ caught Kermit's eye, holding it a long moment before turning to follow the others.

TJ glanced around the darkness surrounding them nervously, and then shuddered. The moon and its shimmering light had gone behind a cloud. He couldn't suppress the deep sigh that escaped as he realized hope could disappear just as quickly as it came.

A howling wind started up out of nowhere, causing TJ get back to the business at hand. He buttoned his jacket to keep it from blowing around, then popped open the trunk to his car to pull out his duffle bag. He quickly checked over its contents before the trunk light blinked out without warning. TJ glanced at his watch and saw the sweep second hand of his watch was frozen in place.

He reached in and grabbed the bag. Slamming the trunk closed, he hustled to catch up to the others. "Like Yogi Berra said, '_It ain't over til it's over_'," he whispered to no one but himself, then added, "And this definitely ain't over."

**oOoOoOoOo**

Minutes passed slowly as the foursome walked along in complete silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the growing breeze and the crunch of leaves under their feet. Every once in a while, Peter heard a nearby owl hooting in the darkness and each time it happened, he couldn't keep himself from jumping.

Peter folded his arms in front of him and glanced over at TJ walking beside him like a silent sentry protecting his charge. With his duffle bag slung over one shoulder, the unassuming man gave no hint of the strength of his spirit.

Peter cringed as he recalled his initial impression of TJ Kincaid. He hadn't treated TJ very well that first morning, assuming judgment against him only because his father was the police commissioner. But Thomas Jefferson Kincaid had proved himself to be made of stronger stuff and a good cop to boot.

Peter cleared his throat, breaking the silence between them. "When you said you'd brushed against the dark forces before, I really didn't think you were as involved in the subject as you indicated. I'll never make that mistake again. If you ever want to talk about a case, or how you lost your girlfriend, or just to shoot the breeze, I hope you'll feel like you can do that with me."

TJ smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate that. I know it seems like we are from different worlds, but your world isn't so different from mine. We're both men who's known loss in their lives. I heard about you losing your mother as a child and then your father. You've seen hard times, but the important thing is that you don't let the hard times beat you."

Peter nodded appreciatively, and then took a deep breath.

"How are you doing with all of this?" TJ asked, slowly his pace slightly.

Peter chuckled. "I'm doing okay. What else can I do? Like you said, I can't let it beat me. I'm a survivor. Besides, I've seen stuff in my life that you wouldn't believe possible."

He flashed TJ a big smile and patted him on the shoulder. "All I can say is I'm glad you are here as my backup."

The moon slipped behind the clouds again, making their progress more difficult. TJ pulled a small flashlight out of his bag, providing some slight illumination.

Peter turned to TJ. "How do you know so much about the demons and satanic influences?"

TJ sighed, but didn't avoid the question, though it looked like that was exactly what he wanted to do. "When Lydia was taken, I was devastated. I thought if I could learn everything that was known about the dark forces, I'd be able to get her back."

A wistful look came into TJ's expression. A part of Peter knew he should be respectful of TJ's grief but another part was too curious to remain quiet. "But you weren't able to?"

TJ shook his head. "No. Not yet."

"You still miss her, don't you? I can see it in your eyes whenever you talk about her."

TJ's gaze dropped down to the ground and remained that way for several paces. "Every minute of every day," he whispered.

Peter's heart went out to TJ, understanding that type of grief very well. Silence ensued until Peter asked another question, this one said in a much more somber tone. "So, just what do you think is ahead of us?"

TJ kept walking, but didn't reply at first. "I take it you aren't talking about the house we are in route to?"

"No, I'm not."

TJ took a deep breath. "I wish I could say that it will be easy going."

Peter kept silent, allowing TJ time to continue.

"A battle lies ahead," TJ said finally. "One that may leave none of us unscathed."

Peter glanced over at him, and then smiled slightly. "We'll be ready for that battle, TJ. This is one of the most determined group of individuals I've ever met."

"I know, but I also know the forces of darkness don't like to lose," TJ began.

"Neither do we, my friend, neither do we."

TJ eyed him carefully, and then nodded in agreement. He looked like he was about to add something else, but didn't. The owl trailing them hooted in the night, piercing its silence with its warning and Peter shoved his hands back into his jacket pockets and walked on without saying another word.

After a bit, Peter noticed there was more than one owl in the area as echoing hoots bounced around the night. Maybe even three or four of them. He slowly became aware of the sound of flapping wings intruding upon his thoughts. TJ glanced upward at the same moment and Peter followed the gaze, freezing in his tracks at the sight.

The darkness was so oblique that they couldn't see far, but what they were able to see was horrifying. The sky was full of birds and bats and only God knew what else. They were circling above the foursome, but each pass brought them lower to the ground.

"Ah, geez," Peter muttered, when he was finally able to speak.

With the sound of his voice, the flying creatures above them began to caw, squawk, and hoot. Not in the normal manner of birds and bats, but more menacing, more evil than God had ever intended for them to sound. The noise blended with the rising windstorm.

Then, the birds, in an eerie display of precision, began diving at the detectives. Jody screamed out as a hawk's talons caught in her hair as it whisked past her head, ripping out several blonde strands as it flew away. Kermit pulled her down as another bird dove at them.

Within moments, all of them had suffered scratches from the sharp claws or beaks of one bird or another. Kermit pointed to a grove of trees beside the road. "There, the trees will give us some protection!" he shouted as he waved the others to follow him.

They began to run to the leafy shelter of a grove of trees. Peter cursed when a large vulture landed on his shoulder. Its razor-sharp talons dug through his jacket and clothing and into recently healed tissue, ripping new wounds in the process.

He screamed with the new assault and tried ineffectively to loosen the bird from its perch. The vulture only squeezed tighter and as Peter looked up, he swore there was a red glint to the bird's lifeless eyes. Finally, TJ batted the bird of prey away with his duffle bag and scooped an arm around Peter's waist to keep him from dropping to his knees.

"Shit!" Peter exclaimed, using his gun to knock aside a persistent bat trying to land on his head. He took several rapid breaths, trying to manage the pain of his torn shoulder before taking a few tentative steps forward.

"He got you pretty bad, Peter. That shoulder is really bleeding now," TJ said as they started toward the trees.

"That's not our biggest problem at the moment," Peter said, grimacing as he swung at another bat circling his head, then cursed as a small hawk zinged across his right temple. "Dammit!"

They were nearly to the trees when TJ was hit in the stomach by a large blackbird, hard enough to knock the bird out. It dropped to the ground, unmoving. The blow staggered TJ and he almost went down, but Peter grabbed him in time to keep him from falling. Still, TJ was shaken, gasping for air, trying to recover the breath that had been knocked from him.

The howling wind now pelted raindrops that felt more like small rocks instead of falling water. Bracken and small twigs blew across their path, hindering their escape, seeming to be part of a deliberate plan to trip them up.

The group made it to the trees, but not without injury. They were bloodied and battered, but in safer territory. The bigger birds were unable to navigate through the canopy of overlapping branches, but it didn't stop the little ones. And it seemed the smaller birds were the most vicious in their attacks, scratching and scraping any exposed skin.

Images of _'The Birds' _by Alfred Hitchcock, one of Peter's favorite movies, flashed through his mind. The building suspense of one bird attack after another had always thrilled Peter, but now he swore to himself he'd never watch the damned thing again. Well, that was if he survived.

Kermit and Jody were doing their best to help one another, just as Peter and TJ were watching out for one another, but at least the intensity of the attack had weakened since they didn't have the larger, more dangerous birds to deal with anymore.

Peter froze when he heard a horrific laugh cackling over the maddening din of the wind and the birds. It was a familiar laugh, one he'd heard for the first time only hours before and one he'd prayed he would never hear again.

Peter slapped a hand over the back of his neck when the burning began anew, and then he pulled his hand away in shock at how warm the site was. It was hot, feverishly hot, devilishly hot. Peter swallowed in realization, but his throat had already gone dry as he remembered he was still connected to the demon in some mystical way.

The windstorm died off abruptly. With its quiet, the birds just flew away, leaving them all winded and shaken. Then came an echoing resonance, a voice but not a voice, whispering, "Peeettterrrrrr..."

The eerily sighed name terrified them, most of all, Peter.

Ignoring the heated area at the back of his neck, Peter turned. Her forced his hand from his neck to hug his bleeding shoulder as he slowly spun around, looking for signs of another attack.

Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait long.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The overhead trees that had once seemed to be shielding the group from harm suddenly became a new source of terror. Large branches broke off without warning, hurling down on them with the potential to kill, especially if the branch caught someone at the right angle.

TJ stopped and pulled out a huge crucifix. He motioned the others toward him, and then indicated for everyone to take the hand of the person beside them. He had just begun to speak in Latin when an overhead branch broke off. The next thing Peter knew, Kermit was flying through the air towards TJ. Peter reacted with automatic reflexes, pulling Jody away at the same time.

Kermit caught TJ in the gut, casting both men to the ground, buried under the weight of the fallen limb from an ancient pine tree. As Peter scrambled to his knees in the aftermath, all he could hear was Kermit grunting in pain when the deadly branch hit him.

Jody had a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Oh God, Peter, are they all right?"

Before he could answer her, he saw TJ start to move and he called out a warning, "Don't move, TJ, Kermit is caught under that limb with you. Hold on until we know how badly hurt he is."

"He... is _fine_. Definitely pissed off, but fine," Kermit grumbled in his usual manner, but his words were clipped and spoken through clenched teeth. "Just get this goddamned limb off of me."

With Jody and Peter working together, they managed to pull the large limb away. Kermit got to his knees, cursing all the way, and he cradled his left arm carefully.

"How bad is it?" Peter asked, helping Kermit up with his one good arm.

"Broken," Kermit replied tersely, "What do we do now?"

With Kermit up, TJ could move without restriction. He got to his feet, and looked around, carefully examining their position.

"Everyone, away from the trees now!" he ordered.

Even as he spoke, limbs began hurtling down around them, acting much like wooden spears zeroing in on human targets. The wind was whipping up so much debris that it was hard to tell which way they were going as they tried to escape.

"Peeetteerrrrrrrr..."

Unconsciously, Peter's hand went to his neck and covered the heated skin. He stopped in his tracks, despite his fear, and looked back toward the voice. Both TJ and Kermit were beside him and followed Peter's gaze. What they saw made all three draw in a quick breath.

Looming behind them was a bodiless head, free-floating in the dark, but it wasn't just a head without a body. The head was a grotesque caricature of human anatomy: the mouth a yawning hole filled with squirming maggots and blood-red tears flowed from its eyes.

Peter could only assume it was an accurate depiction of a demon from hell, having nothing but his brief exposure at the Gables the previous weekend to go by. If the visage was designed to scare the shit out of all of them, the demon definitely succeeded.

The mouth of the figure opened again, and spoke Peter's name in the same long drawn out manner Peter had heard before. "Peeetteerrrrrrrr..."

The word made Peter's skin crawl, especially the throbbing area at his neck, and it mesmerized him into a sort of awkward paralysis. He heard Kermit calling his name, even felt him shaking his arm, but Peter was caught in a demonic spell.

Peter felt Kermit pulling him away, even as the demon was calling his name again, causing him to take a step towards it. "Peeetteerrrrrrrr..."

He fought with all he had, but he couldn't stop himself. The spell was shattered a moment later when a shot rang out, and the apparition disappeared in a screaming explosion. Peter collapsed to his knees, taking Kermit down with him. Gasping, Peter turned his head to see TJ standing beside them, his gun still aimed toward where the ghostly figure had once been.

Kermit was growling in pain as he cradled his arm. TJ took a few steps and knelt beside them.

"Did you – did you kill it?" Peter asked breathlessly.

"No," TJ said as his head dipped down for a moment. "I knew when I fired that it wasn't the demon itself, but a projection. Still, I had to try, if only to show the demon we weren't afraid of it," he paused, then whispered, "Or maybe it was to prove that fact to myself."

Peter's breath caught and he glanced around in a panic. "Where's Jody?"

TJ's head swivelled back to where he'd last seen her. Standing, he cursed and took off running. Peter craned his head around, and cursed when he, too, saw Jody's still form lying at the edge of the tree line.

Kermit wiped at a cut above his right eyebrow and looked up. "What? What's going on?"

Peter pulled himself to his feet with his gaze riveted on TJ kneeling at Jody's side. At least, she was moving again. "Trouble. More trouble."

"Ah, dammit," Kermit muttered, as he tried to get to his feet and failed.

Peter put a hand under Kermit's good arm and helped him stand. By the time they got to Jody and TJ, she was sitting up, but still looked pretty woozy.

"How is she?" Peter asked.

"Lucky, very lucky. She added another knot to the back of her head instead of spear through her heart."

Peter was confused until TJ pulled a wooden spike from the tree trunk with great difficulty. "This apparently was headed straight at her chest when she dived to avoid it. She hit her head on this tree, but at least, she's alive."

Peter knelt beside her and brought a knuckle under Jody's chin, raising it so he could look into her uneven gaze. "You okay, partner?"

She went to nod, then grimaced in pain. "Yeah... yeah, I'll be fine. We can go – "

Kermit interrupted her as he sat beside her, leaning against the tree trunk she'd hit her head on. "You might be ready to go, doll face, but I'm not. Let's just take a moment to catch our breath," he said with a grumpy tone. "Especially now that things seem to have quieted down."

Peter gave him an appreciative nod, then sat down on the other side of her. TJ's use of a silver bullet seemed to have done more than blasted away the demon's image, but also sent the rest of the apparitions and other creatures of the night back into hiding. Now, the night was oddly silent.

TJ squatted down and pulled some gauze pads out of his bag. "Here, use these. You are all cut and bleeding," he said as he passed them out.

"So are you," Jody said, her speech still muddled from her impact with the tree trunk.

"Yeah, but I'm going to do something about Kermit's arm first."

Peter watched TJ work, but also noticed the way the man's gaze kept a protective vigilance on their area, always ready for the first sign of attack. Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he held his bleeding shoulder, knowing TJ would warn them of any danger.

He hoped there would be a brief respite from their battles with the dark forces. But he wasn't holding his breath waiting for it to happen either.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Holding on to each other for physical and moral support, the ragtag crew made their way up the driveway of the house where Marilyn was staying. Right before they got to the front door, Marilyn flung the door open and came hurtling through on a dead run.

Kermit recognized the panicked look to his sister's expression and knew what it took to put it there. It was there with her husband's unexpected death. It was also there the night he first arrived at the Gables to help her with the strange goings on. Marilyn was one of the strongest personalities he'd ever known. A single mother raising two kids while still grieving the loss of her husband had to be strong. If she was rattled, then what TJ had predicted must be happening.

He began to jog towards her, carefully guarding his broken limb as much as possible. "Marilyn, what is it?"

"It's Mitch," she answered in a breathless rush, her words coming faster the further she went with her explanation until she finally had to stop for air. A quick gasp and she continued, "She's gone. She was here a few minutes ago. I fell asleep in the chair beside her as she slept. When I woke up, she was gone. Oh God, Kermit, I think they have her! They have her!"

"Slow down, Marilyn, we'll find her, but first tell me what's been going on."

Marilyn ran a hand through her hair before it came to rest over her throat. "She's been acting more and more strange, withdrawn, almost as if she was being brainwashed in some way. I don't how. I didn't see or hear anything."

Kermit glanced to TJ, who nodded. "Children are much more susceptible to following their orders than adults."

Kermit took his sister into a one-armed embrace and hugged her tightly.

She whispered into his shoulder, "Thank you for coming. I don't know what I'd do without you. Come on, we have to find her before she gets too far away."

She pulled back, preparing to take him in tow with her, when she noticed his injury for the first time. "Kermit, what happened to your arm? My God, your face... you're bleeding. All of you are bleeding," she said, looking around with renewed fear and concern. "What happened?"

Kermit closed his eyes, seeking a fast, concise answer, except nothing but illogical, rambling statements came to mind. Finally, he said, "It's a long story. Come on, let's get moving. Mitch needs us."

He started to step away and Marilyn grabbed his hand. "Kermit, are you sure? You could stay here and I'll go after her."

Kermit shook his head and put his hand to her cheek. "There's no way I'm letting you go out there alone after what we've just been through."

He paused to brush away some blood dripping into his eye. "Come on, Mitch doesn't have time for idle chitchat."

"Wait a sec, Kermit," TJ interrupted. "Marilyn, do you know if there's any kerosene lanterns on the premises? Something non-mechanical we can use for lighting?"

Marilyn nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, in the garage. There's all kinds of camping equipment in there. I'll show you."

The group followed her. Marilyn, TJ, and Jody were soon involved with the lanterns while Kermit's attention went to a locked gun case. Peter was leaning against a dark green Suburban parked in the garage, but he was close enough to talk to Kermit without the others hearing them.

"Do you really think more guns will help against what we're facing?" he asked quietly.

Kermit shrugged. "Couldn't hurt," he paused as he looked to Marilyn. "Do you have a key for this case?"

Marilyn's gaze darted outside as she sighed, obviously thinking these delays were keeping her from her daughter. "Kermit, please... we've got to – "

Kermit put a hand on her arm. "Marilyn, these people know how to deal with this sort of mumbo jumbo. We don't. We need to trust them to do what's best. If they say they need a few minutes to prepare, then they need it. A good soldier knows when to attack and when to lie low."

Marilyn bit her lip as she rung her hands, fighting back threatening tears. Finally, she nodded. She looked at Kermit. "Yes, the ring they gave me has keys to everything, even the gun case."

She reached into her pocket for the key ring.

"Everything? Including this Suburban?"

Puzzled, she nodded. Kermit smiled and reached a hand out for the keys. He unlocked the gun case, indicating for Peter to open it, then he opened the driver's door and climbed inside, cursing under his breath as he jostled his broken arm. The makeshift split they had rigged on the way to the house wasn't providing enough support, but he'd deal with that when he had more time.

The others stopped their activities, pausing as Kermit inserted the key and started the engine. "Good people, your transportation awaits."

"Just a sec," TJ said as he opened the rear door and started loading equipment into the back.

Peter picked up a shotgun with his good hand. "Do you still want this?"

Kermit nodded as he slipped out of the driver's seat, allowing the engine to idle on its own. "I'd prefer it with silver buckshot, but I'll take what I can get."

TJ grinned, "Give me another moment and I'll have your shells loaded with silver... at least enough to make a difference. Come on, Jody, we've got some work to do and we have to move fast."

He pointed to a box of shells above Marilyn's head. "Marilyn, if you'll grab those shells and show us into the kitchen, I'd appreciate it. Once we're set, you can see what first aid you can provide for Peter and your brother in the short time we have to work."

She did as ordered, following them out of the garage. TJ held the door open for her, "By the way, my name is Thomas Jefferson Kincaid. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"You think TJ can pull this off?" Peter asked after they entered the house. He leaned against the idling vehicle, hugging his shoulder closely.

Kermit shrugged, and then flinched, masking the reaction by reaching into the Suburban and shutting off its engine. "I certainly hope so, but we'll go out with a bang if he doesn't."

He smiled with a menacing grin as he finished speaking, then he bent down to pick up a small box at the bottom of the weapons case. It was marked with all kinds of warnings, the most predominant being 'explosives'.

"What in the world? You're kidding me, right? Dynamite here?" Peter started.

"It must be ancient," Kermit said, hefting the heavy package with one hand, "Used to be, you could keep a small amount on a farm to clear tree stumps and the like."

"Is it safe?" Peter asked.

"Is anything we've been doing for the last day safe?" Kermit replied sarcastically. "But I'm taking it with us anyway."

Peter nodded, closing his eyes as his head went back against the window of the car behind him. Kermit thought Peter was more pale than he'd seen him since the apartment. _Then again_, he thought, _I'm probably not looking my best either._

Marilyn came back into the garage with her hands loaded. She carried a first aid kit, a large dish towel, and wood slats.

Kermit sighed with a degree of feigned disgust an older brother reserves only for a doting younger sister. She shook her head at him and he allowed her to set his arm, using the dish towel as an arm sling and the slats for better support for the brace. Though she worked quietly and efficiently, Kermit could tell she was barely keeping herself together.

Marilyn had just finished when Jody and TJ swept back into the garage to join them, their arms full of miscellaneous paraphernalia. "We're all set, Kermit," TJ said breathlessly.

"You drive, TJ," Kermit ordered as he slid into the back seat. "It's time to get this show on the road."

**oOoOoOoOo**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The drive over to the Gables was accomplished in a matter of minutes and without incident. in the rearview mirror, TJ saw Jody rub her forehead, probably out of pain and in frustration. TJ felt Kermit's gaze turn in his direction. He said, "So, the vehicles run fine as long as we are headed to the Gables?"

TJ nodded.

Kermit continued, "And if we went passed it without stopping?"

"The Suburban's engines would have stopped and not started again," TJ answered in a quiet tone, with a hint of his own frustration.

"Shit," Jody said finally.

An eerie silence settled over the group as TJ turned onto the road leading to the Gables. Kermit finally spoke up again. "Marilyn, I did some additional research once I got home from our weekend fun and I warn you, this won't give you any warm fuzzies. Your home was built over a site where a large coven of witches once worshiped. Ultimately, they were burned at the stake, back in the late 1700's."

Marilyn shivered and clasped Kermit's hand tightly. "That's something I could have waited to hear until after I have Mitch back safe and sound."

For an instant, Kermit looked stricken with guilt, but before he could speak, TJ interrupted, "Sorry, Marilyn, that might not be information you want to hear, but it's certainly something I needed to know. Any other tidbits like that one, Kermit?"

Kermit's voice was low. "Oh yeah," he paused, glancing in Marilyn's direction and sighed, "There have been reports of hauntings on this property ever since then. And speak of the devil... "

Kermit's voice dropped off as they approached the Gables from the winding driveway, its architectural profile both familiar and foreboding. No one spoke as they all looked at the building in an entirely different light.

TJ couldn't help but notice how the hollow glimmer of moonlight only added frightening shadows to the Gables' parapets and sharp angles, all places where creatures of the dark could lie in wait.

They exited the Suburban and gathered at the rear of the vehicle as TJ began to pull out items he'd packed earlier. He issued instructions to the different detectives on what to do with each piece of equipment.

Marilyn stood, silently watching them work with growing agitation, and then she put her hands on her hips. "Are we just going to stand around here or are we going to find Mitch?"

The others defaulted to TJ. He took Marilyn's hand, looking deep into her dark eyes so reminiscent of Kermit's on the rare occasions he'd actually seen them. "We have to prepare before entering the devil's den."

Marilyn's frantic gaze sought out Kermit, who reached out to embrace her as she whispered, "But – but she's just a child. She doesn't understand what's happening. We've got to get her back."

Kermit held her for a moment before pulling away. "We will get her back, Marilyn. We will bring her back safely to you. I swear we will if it's the last thing we do."

Marilyn's eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to lose either one of you."

"You won't. I'm too ornery for them to want to keep me for very long," he whispered in her ear as he took her into his arms again.

Peter moved up behind TJ, speaking low so Marilyn couldn't hear him. "It's too damned quiet out there. Something's going to happen soon."

TJ nodded. "We're as armed as we can be. You take the shotgun. You're a better shot than I am and Kermit can't handle it with his broken arm. Jody, Kermit, and I will use the handguns with silver bullets. All of you will carry flasks of holy water and crucifixes."

"What will you carry?" Peter asked, picking up on what TJ wasn't mentioning.

Avoiding a direct answer, TJ said, "I've got a gun."

Peter smirked. "Yeah, but that's not all."

TJ sighed. "Yes, a gun and a crucifix... and a hell of a lot of prayers. Speaking of which."

He motioned to the others. "Gather around me."

The others did as requested, waiting on him with curiosity.

"I'm going to recite the Prayer of St Michael the Archangel. Follow with me. _St Michael the Archangel defend us in the battle." _

They obediently repeated his words. He continued, _"Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil."_

Again, they said the words he'd said.The next bit took longer, but they managed._ "May God rebuke him, we humbly pray and do Thou, oh Prince of the Most Heavenly Host, by the Divine power of God, cast into hell, Satan and all evil spirits who wander throughout the world for the ruin of souls."_

He finished with, "Amen."

"Amen."

Taking a deep breath, TJ said, "Now, Peter, from what you were telling me earlier, what you called the gateway to hell was a door at the base of the staircase on the left-hand side as you faced the stairs?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"And the other entrance you and your father used was accessed from the attic?"

Again, Peter nodded. "Yeah."

TJ turned to Kermit. "The hallway where you were accosted by the demons was downstairs leading to the basement?"

Kermit nodded once, pulling away from Marilyn.

TJ looked at her. "Any other entrances or openings that you saw the demons use?"

Marilyn wiped away her tears and shook her head. "No, I never saw anything like that until the door flew open and the demons pulled that murderer back in with them. After that, everything stopped."

Her eyes teared again as traces of panic began to echo in her voice. "At least – at least, that's what I thought. Oh my poor baby, what is happening to her while we stand around talking?"

She began to sob, pulling away to head for the house. TJ stopped her by taking one arm, and Jody took the other. "Why don't we just go in there and get her? Why wait?" she asked, her tone becoming more desperate.

TJ's expression turned dark. "I've heard it said like this, _'It is easy to go down into Hell; night and day, the gates of dark death stand wide; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air-there's the rub, and the task.'_"

TJ looked deeply into her eyes. "I want to make sure everyone can get back out once we have her."

Jody stepped back, allowing Kermit in to comfort his sister again. Marilyn folded into his arms and cried.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. Agitation now fueled his movements. Peter glanced over at TJ and whispered, "What's our odds of getting out of this thing alive?"

TJ merely shrugged, his tone now quiet as he explained, "One cannot discount a gathering of demons. They come and go of their own accord. The soul of the murderer they took at the climax of the events this weekend, namely a living soul of evil, apparently wasn't enough to satisfy their hunger. But all of that amplified when one of their own went missing. They are restless. They are angered and want satisfaction. They want you, Peter, and Mitch. You two are the only payment they are seeking."

Kermit stepped forward. "Well, they will just have to keep on shopping. Peter and Mitch are NOT going with them – not if I have anything to do with it."

TJ nodded his head. "Then, it's time to get moving."

He caught Kermit's eye and held it for a long moment. Kermit took Marilyn to the driver's door of the Suburban. "Marilyn, honey, you are our ace-in-the-hole," he started, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

"Oh, no, you don't. You aren't going to make me stay in the car, out of harm's way, while you risk – "

"Marilyn!" Kermit shouted so abruptly that everyone, including Marilyn, went silent. He lowered his voice and gently rubbed her arm. "Marilyn, you have to do this. If we don't make it out, you need to go for help. TJ left phone numbers on the dashboard of the car of people you can call, people who know how to handle situations like this."

Marilyn shook her head, obviously rejecting the information Kermit was telling her, but he kept on talking to her, low and steady. Minutes of resistance passed, but then she finally agreed. She brought a hand to his cheek. "You just make sure you bring her back, along with yourself and the rest of these good people. You make sure you do that," she said with a trembling voice.

Kermit merely nodded and TJ wondered if Kermit wasn't speaking because he didn't trust his voice to conceal the depth of his current emotion. In the end, it didn't really matter; words weren't necessary for the one final embrace he gave Marilyn before they headed toward the house.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Peter waited for the others outside the front door, working hard to suppress the fear building inside of him. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. The fear rumbling inside him was strong enough to shut down all thoughts if he allowed it to worm a foothold in his head.

But there was a little girl trapped inside this house – a little girl without anyone to watch out for her or tell her everything was going to be okay. For that reason, and that reason alone, he was going to walk into the lion's den and face the worst of his own fears.

Jody joined him, lightly brushing her hand against his good arm. "You didn't use that arm sling Marilyn made for you for very long," she chided.

Peter frowned, complaining without looking in her direction, "I can't move very much with that thing on."

"That's the whole idea, Einstein, to take the pressure off your injured shoulder."

"It's too confining," he grumbled, giving her a defiant stare. "So I tossed it."

Jody responded by giving him a dismissive shrug. "Whatever."

She turned toward the house and shuddered. "This is it, isn't it, partner?" Her voice was now low with trepidation.

"Yeah, this is what separates the men from the boys," he said, attempting a little humor to lighten the moment.

Jody played along, shifting moods as quickly as he had and chuckled. "Well, that lets me off the hook. Women are much tougher than any man or boy. We've always had to be in order to survive. So, see ya!" she said with a wave goodbye.

She stopped and turned when Peter didn't call her back. "Hey, that was a joke."

Peter still didn't react, prompting her to lean into his line of sight. "I can't leave now, or I never will get the respect I want at work. Just imagine Royshack's face when I tell him I've faced down the demons of hell."

She waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? That was another joke... Man, I must be losing my touch."

Peter turned to her, his gaze hoping to reach through her humor enough to understand the gravity of their situation. He took her hand in his as he began speaking in a low, grim tone, injecting as much caring and concern as he could.

"Jody, you don't have to do this. You weren't here this weekend. You don't have family involved. You don't an emotional stake in what's going on. You don't even know what you'll be facing. I won't hold it against you if you just walk away and join Marilyn in the car."

Peter wasn't prepared for the eruption of fury that came from her. "I don't have an emotional stake in what's going on? Like hell I don't! You're my partner. Kermit's my friend. You completely toss away the importance of that friendship and our partnership when you say bullshit like that, so don't ever do it again!"

She leaned close enough for Peter to see the rage sparking in her eyes and poked him in the chest with a pointed finger. "I'm going and that's it."

Peter swallowed, and then nodded. "Okay."

"Damned straight," Jody threw back at him and took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Jody?" Peter asked as he heard TJ and Kermit approaching them. "If we get cornered by evil demons threatening to take our eternal souls, promise me you'll give them the look you just gave me. That'll send them screaming back into hell and they'll never come back again."

Jody started chuckling, and then shook her head. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It's a promise."

"Enough fraternizing among the ranks. It's time to get to work," Kermit said.

"Got that right," Peter whispered to himself.

Jody must have noticed Kermit's quiet demeanor, because she asked, "What are you thinking about, Kermit?"

Kermit never shifted his gaze as he recited a passage, "_'Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world.'_ Hamlet. Very appropriate for our situation."

"Well, hell better be careful," Peter said as he stepped forward, "because this contagion is about to kick hell's demonic ass."

**oOoOoOoOo**

TJ pushed the front door open and waited for an attack. When nothing came, he proceeded inside. The other three followed behind him with weapons drawn. It was so quiet, they weren't even breathing, or so it seemed.

Peter watched TJ as he moved cautiously ahead; one hand holding a crucifix, the other holding a gun. There was some sort of twisted irony in that image, but the significance escaped Peter at that moment. TJ had his duffle bag slung over one shoulder with the zippered opening easily accessible if needed.

"Keep your eyes open, people. The demons will try any way possible to distract, and then attack. Nothing is above what they will do to cause you to hesitate. They could even go so far as to tempt you over to their side. Just remember we're here to save Mitch and that's it. Keep at least one of us in your sight at all times."

TJ had barely finished speaking when a low rumbling started in the wall next to them. The sound's momentum swirled around and through the walls, picking up speed in a whirlwind of sound and hysteria.

It sounded like a runaway freight train speeding through the night, Peter thought, and he jumped when the front door slammed shut behind him, even though he was prepared for trouble. He ventured a glance at his companions, noting the different degrees of fright in all of them.

Grinding his teeth against the flare of pain the jumping movement caused his shoulder, he kept his eyes open for more trouble. Just like the others were doing. Peter broke open the shotgun, checking the half-dozen specially made silver-riddled shells that were loaded into the shotgun, ready for action just in case the need arose.

The rumbling in the walls stopped, and then the sound of footsteps began. Distant at first, they grew louder as each measured step moved towards them. TJ shook his head, tiring of the theatrics, and then gestured for the others to start splintering off to search the adjoining rooms.

While everyone obeyed TJ's orders and stayed within visual sight of one another, the fact they were splitting up still disturbed Peter. He knew time was of the essence and they could search the house faster by dividing into teams. it didn't change the fact he wasn't going to relax until they were out of the damned house and handing Mitch back into Marilyn's waiting arms.

As soon as Peter entered the living room, a child began to cry. Spinning around, he looked for Mitch, assuming the crying child was Mitch. He couldn't see her, but the sound of her tears was so real, it unnerved him.

"Mitch?" he called out, "Mitch, can you hear me, honey?"

The crying became more frantic, compelling Peter to search the room more closely. He looked behind each nook and cranny, but there still no sign of her. He glanced across the hallway and saw Jody exiting the kitchen.

"All clear," she called out and waved to him.

He nodded to her and starting walking out of the living room to join her when the crying turned into crazed laughter. The walls around Peter started dripping with blood and the laughter became more evil, more deadly. Peter looked up and one wall began to bleed the words, "PETER IS MINE!"

Peter shuddered and was starting to back away when Jody screamed a warning. He spun around in time to see a chair flying through the air, heading his way. He dove to one side, just in time to watch the chair slam into the wall. He rolled out of the dive, coming up ready for more trouble, ignoring the fire raging in his shoulder from the movement.

When nothing else happened, except the appearance of Jody and TJ, he sagged against the wall.

"Peter?" Jody asked, walking towards him.

He waved her back to the search. "I'm fine, just banged my shoulder," he said breathlessly.

Jody shook her head as she looked around the room. "Partner, there's bleeding walls that say 'PETER IS MINE!' and all you have to say is 'I'm fine'. That's bullshit!"

Peter straightened, preparing to argue with her when TJ stepped in. He stared hard at Peter. "You are to stay with me at all times. They have just made their announcement. They'll go for you once they gain possession of Mitch."

Peter swallowed and nodded. He wasn't going to argue with their resident expert on evil. He followed TJ out of the room, but couldn't help a few backward glances to make sure all was still quiet. His neck still burned like crazy, but he hadn't mentioned it to TJ or the others. They had enough on their minds.

As he emerged from the room, Kermit was standing on the bottom step of the staircase leading to the upper levels of the house, waiting for them to join him. When TJ paused in muted concentration, Jody and Kermit automatically stood on guard, waiting for him to indicate the next step.

TJ still had his eyes closed, but he tightened his grip on the large crucifix in his hand and began a slow 360-degree circle, before moving it up in the air, and then down again.

TJ's eyes flew open and he pointed down the long hallway to the rear of the house. They froze in place as Mitch walked across their field of vision, giving no notice that she was aware they were even there. In a zombie-like fashion, she moved slowly and without reaction, apparently on some unknown mission into the basement.

"Mitch!" Kermit shouted and started after her.

TJ grabbed Kermit by the arm and stopped him, shaking his head only once. He put a finger to his lips, indicating silence, and then whispered, "We'll follow her, because it's what they want, but try not to awaken her if it can be avoided. Once she realizes what's happening, she'll panic and I don't want to be dealing with a hysterical child while also battling the dark forces."

Kermit nodded in reluctant agreement. They fell in step behind TJ. Peter gave Kermit a long sideways glance and could tell the ex-merc was ready to cut loose on someone or something with both barrels.

Peter let a small sigh of relief escape. He doubted the forces of hell realized what they'd unleashed by making Kermit so angry. That thought comforted Peter even as the flames in the lanterns diminished to a fraction of what had once been.

"Time to lock and load," Kermit muttered.

_Oh yeah,_ Peter thought, _It's way past time for that. Now, if we can just get heaven's blessing for what is about to happen, we might just make it out of here alive._

**oOoOoOoOo**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

The third degree blister at the back of Peter's neck was driving him crazy. In fact, it was so bad, it was hard to tell which was worse, the pain in his neck or the pain of his shoulder. Yet, he knew if they didn't defeat the demons, the burning mark on his neck would be the thing to eventually lead to his death.

He consciously moved his hand from his neck to toy with the smooth wooden stock of the shotgun he was holding just to keep his hand occupied. The quartet had followed Mitch into the basement without a word, but Peter saw the fear evident on everyone's faces, whether they wanted to acknowledge it or not.

Mitch came to a stop in the center of the basement. The room was still a mess from when the thieves had torn it apart over the weekend looking for the multimillion-dollar booty from a botched bank robbery – a booty that had led to the deaths of the Gables' previous occupants.

Mitch just stood there, staring off into the distance, seeing something the rest of them could not.

TJ pointed to his eyes, then his fingers gestured in a sweeping motion around the room. Peter nodded with understanding, then turned sarcastic. _Keep your eyes open_, Peter told himself,_ Like we need to be told to do that._

He sighed with frustration, unable to keep his fingers from flexing his grip of the shotgun, then saw Jody and Kermit were doing the same thing with their handguns.

TJ bent forward and unzipped his duffle bag. He pulled out a small flask of holy water and Peter knew he was about to begin some type of exorcism on Mitch.

Apparently, the demons knew it, too, because they began their attack. The walls rumbled so violently anything touching them vibrated also. A noxious odor wafted from the air vents, as if cued on a choreographed play list of horrors, but it was the shrill assortment of screams echoing within the confined quarters that grated on Peter's nerves the most.

Blinding lights flashed around the room, stunning and disorienting them. When loose objects started flying off the walls, Kermit ducked, then he pulled TJ out of the way of a flying shovel. Kermit's voice had an ominous tone as he said, "Let's just grab her and do the Linda Blair thing somewhere else. I don't like the way things are progressing."

TJ looked around the room and nodded in agreement. He scooped Mitch up in his arms and the group started running for the exit, only to stop short when the escape route became the entrance to a fiery scene from hell. Ghostly apparitions streamed into the room at a frightening pace.

The horrific scene paralyzed Peter with fear, for it was far worse than anything he'd ever seen in a movie or book, or even his worst nightmare. Judging from the terrified expressions on the others they were thinking the same thing.

"Shit," Peter cursed as he looked around for another escape route.

It was going to take a miracle to get them out alive. Unfortunately, he was fresh out of them. He'd been using them all weekend long like he had an endless supply. Now, it looked like it was going to be the final comment of his epitaph. He could almost hear Nicky Elder dictating as he performed his autopsy. _"Peter Caine: male, age twenty-nine. Cause of Death: out of miracles."_

**oOoOoOoOo**

"We have to make our stand, right here and now," TJ said, setting Mitch back on her feet, but he kept a tight hold on her. "Kermit, watch her for a sec while I prepare."

Kermit slipped his gun into its holster, then put an arm around her. Mitch had always been a strange child, but one that had wormed her way into his heart. A unique blend of laughter and pathos, intelligence and silliness. Maybe that's why he had always identified with her. He had lived that type of personality blend for many years.

Marilyn liked to say Mitch had an old spirit with wisdom beyond her years, but her demeanor now was nothing of the niece he'd known. Her eyes were empty and devoid of her quirky, loving personality.

Kermit's thoughts went to Marilyn, who was waiting outside for them, and how Mitch's current state would had unnerved her. Hell, it was unnerving him.

As the others prepared a defense, Kermit brushed a stray lock of her hair back behind one ear. She turned to him, looked him straight in the eye, and screamed an unholy wail without warning. She lashed out with one hand, and the impact threw Kermit into a nearby wall, hard.

The demon started speaking through her, its unnatural voice high and wailing. "Weeee havvvve the girrrrl. Noooow, it issss timmme toooooo claimmmm ourrrrr sssssecond prizzzzze. Butttt yoooou havvve angerrrred usssss. Weeee willlll notttt sstop untillll weeeee havvvve yooou alllllllllll."

Kermit groaned in pain, but it was Jody's wide-eyed gaze of disbelief that shook him from his stupor. Everything about her screamed it was time to act or die. He glanced over at TJ and Peter and saw the two involved in a rapid exchange.

TJ began to sprinkle Mitch with holy water while reciting one of the holy rites he'd memorized. "_'In the Name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God, of Blessed Michael the Archangel, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and all the Saints, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil._

"_'God arises; His enemies are scattered and those who hate Him flee before Him. As smoke is driven away, so are they driven; as wax melts before the fire, so the wicked perish at the presence of God. Behold the Cross of the Lord, Flee bands of enemies. He has conquered the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the offspring of David. May thy mercy, Lord, descend upon us. As great as our hope in Thee._

"_'We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions, assemblies and sects; in the Name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God and from the souls made to the image and likeness of God and redeemed by the Precious Blood of the Divine Lamb.'_"

As TJ recited the words, Jody helped Kermit to his feet. When he sagged from a wave of dizziness, she held on to him more tightly and whispered, "What are we going to do if TJ's thing doesn't work?"

Kermit shook his head to clear the darkness shimmering at the edge of his vision. "I wish I knew what to do," he said in a hoarse whisper as he hugged his broken arm to his chest.

The stench coming from the portal had him reeling from its noxious nature. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand, and then remembered the heavy objects filling his coat pockets and he smiled an evil smile. "Then again, maybe I do."

Jody looked at him with a question lingering on her lips. Kermit glanced back at TJ with Peter at his side, then at Mitch who was cowering in reaction to the holy words TJ was reciting. Her skin was an ungodly pale color and she was foaming at the mouth as she shuddered and writhed in pain.

Kermit closed his eyes against the sight, then opened them again to catch Peter's gaze from across the room. The young detective was still holding the shotgun in his arms, ready to shoot at any moment, but he too looked helpless to do anything but be a witness to the unfolding nightmare.

Kermit wiped at the new cut bleeding at his temple, and then glanced back to horrifying scene where the ghostly demons had halted at the entrance. Their angry stream of screams demanding TJ to stop was so deafening that Kermit could barely hear TJ speaking, let alone understand the words, but that didn't stop Kincaid from continuing.

His voice was growing hoarse from the exertion and emotion of the task, but he kept on speaking. "_'Be gone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation. Give place to Christ in whom you have found none of your works; give place to the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church acquired by Christ at the price of His Blood. _

"_'Stoop beneath the all-powerful Hand of God; tremble and flee when we invoke the Holy and terrible name of Jesus, this Name which causes hell to tremble; this Name to which the Virtues, Powers and Dominations of Heaven are humbly submissive, this Names which the Cherubim and Seraphim praise unceasingly repeating: Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord, the God of Armies.'_"

Kermit noticed a shift in the gathering demons, as if they were merely waiting for the holy words to end, so they could attack in full force. Kermit fingered one of the oblong sticks in his pocket, wondering how much power remained in the old dynamite.

_Probably won't even ignite_, he told himself.

TJ was continuing with the centuries old prayer. "_'O Lord, hear my prayer. And let my cry come unto Thee. May the Lord be with thee. And with thy spirit._

_"From the snares of the devil, deliver us, O Lord. That Thy Church may serve Thee in peace and liberty, we beseech Thee to hear us. That Thou may crush down all enemies of Thy Church, we beseech Thee to hear us.'_"

Kermit didn't have any more time for wondering about the potency of the dynamite because with the end of TJ's prayer, Mitch slumped to the floor and the demons attacked.

Peter reacted and fired off the first salvo, a mighty blast from both barrels of the shotgun and the spread of buckshot hit the first four demons crossing over the divide. They exploded in a fiery blast.

"That's what you get for hitchhiking without permission, you bastards!" Peter yelled, but didn't have time for celebration, as more emerged behind them.

Jody stepped forward, joining Peter and TJ in the shooting match, as they tried to keep the horde of demons on the other side.

Kermit stood in place, thinking individual bullets were a waste of time. When the bullets were all gone, they were sunk.

One of the vaporous demons separated from the others to hover in front of him and started singing, "_I can't get no satisfaction_..."

"That does it," Kermit muttered, as he pulled his Desert Eagle and blasted the demon back to hell. He wiped at his forehead with his gun hand, and then stared at the weapon. _Oh yeah, it's definitely time for action, but not by blasting one demon at a time._

Kermit reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out two small sticks of dynamite, already primed with a fuse. He fumbled with it for a moment, trying to reach his lighter. Jody must have noticed his difficulty because she pulled the lighter from Peter's denim jacket she was wearing.

When Kermit looked at her in surprise, she explained, "Peter must have left it in his pocket for some reason," she said as she brought the flame to life. "Are you sure you sure you want to do this?"

Kermit nodded. "Oh yeah. It's our only chance. If we blow this wall, it should give us access to the staircase. And that will give us some fighting room."

Without another word, Jody put the flame to both fuses. Kermit tossed one stick of dynamite into the area he hoped would do the most good, and then turned towards Peter, TJ, and Mitch.

"Fire in the hole," he shouted. "Get some cover, because this is going to do damage!"

Peter grabbed Mitch and TJ scooped up his duffle bag. Together, they ducked behind several large boxes.

Kermit threw the second stick into the fiery scene of hell. "Go back where you belong!" he shouted, and then Jody grabbed him and pulled him behind some heavy furniture.

A mighty blast erupted from both locations, but the one from hell overshadowed everything else. The concussive force threw the furniture and the people against the wall, trapping them in place.

As Kermit lost his hold on consciousness, he thought of Mitch. Hopefully, Peter was still looking out for her.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Kermit groaned as he shoved away the debris covering him. He hurt in more places than he wanted to consider, but his broken arm screamed the loudest for attention. Grinding his teeth, Kermit told himself he didn't have time for bothersome injuries. He had to check on Mitch.

He sworn he'd bring Mitch back to Marilyn. Now, he was hoping it wouldn't be a corpse he'd be bringing back to her instead.

A noise off to one side drew Kermit's attention and he saw a portion of a denim jacket peeking out from under another pile of rubble.

He forced himself to sit up, and closed his eyes to keep from keeling over. Once he'd steadied his dizziness, he started digging his way down to Jody.

"Jody, can you hear me?" he asked, but his only response was another groan.

"At least, you're alive. And that's something considering that blast."

Thinking about the deafening explosions, he turned to view his handiwork. The first blast had opened a way to the staircase as he had hoped it would.

"Marilyn, you are never going to let me into your house again," he muttered with dismay as he shifted to see the second area and had to put a hand to the ground to keep from falling over.

Squinting, he was relieved to see the portal to hell had been closed with his impromptu detonation, replaced with something more typical following the use of explosives. But TJ, Peter, or Mitch were nowhere to be seen. "Damn. Don't tell me I blew them to smithereens, too," he whispered as he climbed to his feet.

Hugging his broken arm close to him, Kermit staggered to his feet, wobbling widely as he went to their location. Through the haze of fire and smoke, he spotted TJ half laying across Peter and Mitch. Kneeling down, Kermit placed a hand on TJ's back and called his name.

TJ moaned in response and started moving. With TJ's awakening movements, Peter gasped in pain as TJ's stirring weighed upon him.

"Ah, geez," he whispered through clenched teeth.

"Hold on, Peter," Kermit said, "I'll get TJ off of you and Mitch in just a sec."

Peter nodded; his eyes squeezed shut as he waited. Kermit gave him a second glance, noting the grime smearing the young detective's face only made him seem more pale. Kermit moved his hand from Kincaid's back to his arm, wondering how he was going to move TJ without aggravating unknown injuries when Jody knelt beside TJ.

She brushed TJ's blood-matted hair from his forehead. "TJ? TJ, can you hear me?"

He moaned again, but this time, he muttered almost incoherently, "Don't call me, TJ."

Jody smiled despite their situation, and then glanced to Kermit. Together, they gently lifted TJ, turning him onto his back next to Mitch, who was still face down on the ground. Part of Peter's upper torso was draped across her and as TJ's weight was removed, Peter gasped in relief.

Jody leaned close to him. "Peter, where are you hurt?" she whispered.

"Everywhere," Peter joked, then flinched.

Kermit bent closer to Mitch while Jody talked to Peter. The girl was bleeding from cuts and scrapes, but it was her stillness and ash-white skin tones that disturbed Kermit the most. "Mitch, it's Uncle Kermit... Mitch?"

When she still didn't move, he placed two fingers over her carotid artery, relieved to find a pulse and to feel the steady rise and fall of her respirations.

Peter's unexpected groan drew Kermit's attention away from his niece.

Jody scolded him as she held him by one arm, "Peter, be still until we see how badly you are hurt."

Ignoring her, Peter rolled to his side and grunted, trying to catch his breath. He looked up and caught Kermit's gaze. "Tell her we don't have time for playing it by the book," he whispered breathlessly.

The hair on the back of Kermit's neck suddenly stood on end and his gaze darted around the room, searching for signs of attack.

"Kermit, talk some sense into him – " Jody said, gearing up for a contest of wills.

"He's right, Jody, we've got to move and move fast."

Kermit didn't bother to wait to see Jody's incredulous expression. Instead, he shifted his position to check on TJ. He was now semiconscious. Kermit slapped him on the cheek gently to bring him around faster.

"Kincaid, we need to move out. Can you stand?"

There was nothing gentle in Kermit's clipped tone, but it was enough to bring TJ to alertness. He blinked a few times, and then brought a hand to his forehead. His eyes narrowed before he asked, "What the hell did you use? Dynamite?"

Kermit nodded as he took TJ's outstretched hand and pulled him up one-handed. TJ put a hand to his head with the change in position, but quickly shook it off. Jody helped Peter sit up, and Kermit gently turned Mitch onto her back.

The girl was breathing rapidly, but otherwise appeared to be unhurt. _ Appearances can be deceiving_, Kermit reminded himself and again he shivered.

The shock of Mitch's voice hit him like an unexpected jolt of electricity and he stiffened as she said, "You look like someone just walked over your grave, Uncle Kermit."

Glancing down, he saw her half-hooded eyes watching him with the innocence of youth. He resisted the urge to shiver again as he wondered if he was seeing his niece or a demon-possessed version of her.

Putting a hand to her cheek, he said, "How are you?"

"Mom is going to be really mad when she sees what you've done to the house," she whispered as her eyes swept around the room.

Kermit chuckled despite their situation. "Oh yeah, and it isn't going to be pretty."

He brushed his fingers across her cheek again. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Mitch paused, and then shook her head. "I'm just sore... and I don't remember how I got here."

"I'll explain once we get outside," Kermit said as he helped her get to her feet. He wondered how he would even begin to explain the night's occurrences to her in terms Mitch would comprehend.

By that time, the others were standing, too. Peter had his arm around Jody. He looked like he was about to collapse but was on his feet nonetheless. Kermit caught TJ and Peter exchanging nervous glances, both watching Mitch carefully.

Kermit tightened his hold around her shoulder, strangely disturbed by their wariness.

"Let's go," he said, leading the way out of the room.

**oOoOoOoOo**

As Peter and Jody followed Kermit out of the smoke-filled room, the small fires scattered around were beginning to grow in size and intensity.

Jody tried to support Peter, but her coughing from the smoke forced her to hold her ribs each time she coughed. She managed a weak smile when TJ patted her on the shoulder, his expression dark with worry for her. Peter was worried about her, too, but he was more worried about the two ahead of him.

Kermit and Mitch looked as if they were holding onto each other for dear life while they navigated their way to the first floor. TJ dropped back behind Peter and Jody, purposefully covering their exit. The front door loomed within sight and Peter breathed a sigh of relief with its nearness.

The two had just passed the staircase when the closet door blasted open with a horde of shrieks and skeletal hands stretching forward without warning, clawing their way toward Mitch.

Kermit tried to swing around, putting himself between the grasping hands and his niece, but he was batted out of the way, sliding down the hallway like a discarded child's toy.

Peter reacted faster than Jody, pulling Mitch away from the outstretched ephemeral fingers. He spun her around, pushing her toward Jody. "Take her, Jody, and run. Get out her out of here now!" he shouted.

The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt unholy fingers wrap around his ankles and jerk him from his feet. He went down hard and was being pulled into the portal of the netherworld. With each inch that drew him closer, Peter could feel the heat and despair of hell swelling out to greet him.

_This is it_, he thought to himself as his fingernails dug at the hardwood floor searching for something to hold onto.

Out of nowhere, a human hand wrapped around his wrist and started pulling him back into his rightful realm. Looking up with grateful surprise, Peter saw TJ, bloodied and battered, but leaning back on his haunches, pulling with every ounce of exertion he had.

The battle began in earnest then. Peter wrapped his free hand around the grip TJ had on his other wrist and pulled toward him, giving it everything he had, even though his ankles felt like the bone was being wrenched from its socket.

Kermit called from the front door, "Kincaid, what can we do to help?"

Through clenched teeth, TJ answered, but never took his eyes off of Peter. "Just get out of here. Whatever happens next, it will be dangerous."

"Kincaid," Kermit said, torn between loyalty and necessity.

"Get Mitch out of here!" TJ ordered.

Reluctantly, Jody and Kermit led a dazed Mitch out the front door and to her mother.

Peter shook his head as sweat dripped from his chin to the floor. "At..least, she's safe... They won't get her..." he whispered.

"They aren't going to get you, either," TJ said, his gaze boring into Peter's.

Peter didn't reply, mostly because he didn't think his odds of survival were very high. In fact, they were probably dropping with each passing moment. The agony of his injured shoulder and ribs were reaching new heights as that side of his body was being stretched painfully taut in a human-versus-demon tug of war.

Just when Peter thought they were losing ground, TJ found strength from somewhere deep inside and Peter was hauled a good foot from the closet entrance. The small bit of headway encouraged him and he pulled himself closer to TJ.

"That's it, Peter, keep it up. We aren't going home without you. So, fight. Fight harder than you've ever fought before."

Not devoting any energy to words or replies, Peter dug in as ordered and their slow path of progress continued until a woman's voice broke through their concentration.

Peter was so startled by her sudden appearance, he nearly lost his hold on TJ. He didn't recognize the voice, but gauging by TJ's visible reaction, the redheaded detective did.

Peter ventured a quick glance over his shoulder and saw a delicate blonde standing among the flames of the portal, reaching a shaking hand out toward TJ. Her face reflected fear and panic, the same thing anyone would experience if they were in her place. She was so close Peter could have touched her with his foot, if both feet weren't tightly held by demons.

"Help me, Thomas, help me!" she cried, tears streaming down her pale countenance.

TJ looked at her, in shock and bewilderment, and it seemed to Peter that he saw the man's heart break into countless pieces. The words TJ had whispered just one day before came back to him in a rush as TJ had tried to explain how he knew so much about demons.

_"I know them, Peter. I've brushed against the dark forces. They took someone from me. A girl I loved. One day, I'm going to be able to step over into the darkness and pull her back. Until then, I have to watch and wait and let people laugh at me. Remember, don't call me TJ."_

Looking into TJ's horrified expression, Peter knew the woman was TJ's lost love. TJ looked like he was being ripped apart, because in order to reach Lydia, he would have to release his grip on Peter. Seeing the depth of TJ's love for her, Peter whispered, "Let me go. Get her while you can. Just do it."

Lydia interrupted, as if unaware of the drama and conversation going on between the two men, "TJ, what are you doing? Why aren't you helping me?"

Tears started flowing freely down her face as she continued with a trembling voice, "Don't you love me anymore? TJ, please, save me!"

Peter could feel TJ's tired muscles begin to quiver as he fought within himself; duty battling against his heart's desire.

Peter whispered again, "TJ, let go of me and save her. This may be your only chance."

TJ tried to break his gaze away from Lydia, but couldn't. His slumping shoulders were Peter's only sign that he had even heard him.

Before TJ could speak, Lydia started in again. "TJ, darling, I don't know how long I can last in here if you don't save me now," she pleaded.

TJ's eyes squeezed shut.

"Just let go of him. He already told you to. Let go of him and we'll be together again, Thomas. LET GO OF HIM!"

TJ's eyes flew open with Lydia's words. Peter wasn't sure what was happening but he nearly flinched when he saw TJ's expression of guilt and indecision transform into something unexpected in an instant. Angry determination replaced TJ's previous angst so quickly, Peter knew trouble was afoot.

Steely resolution echoed in TJ's next whispered words. "Hang on, Peter. I'm sure you're tired of being a human pull toy and I'm just plain tired of being jerked around."

"But TJ..."

"No buts...That's not Lydia, and I'm not falling for it."

While TJ's expression reflected rage and indignation, his eyes held lingering hints of the internal pain his heart felt. He adjusted his grip on Peter's arm, and planted his feet more squarely positioned for a final move.

"When I make this next pull, I should be able to pull you clear."

Peter nodded as he tried to ignore the physical discomfort flooding his senses. "Thanks, TJ. I mean it, thanks for everything."

TJ nodded once, then gritted his teeth together. "Just pray we make it out of here alive."

TJ released one hand from Peter's arm and slipped it into the duffle bag still slung over his neck. He pulled out an ornate flask, detailed in its markings and religious decorations. He closed his eyes, whispering a quick prayer aloud, and then threw the glass flask into the gateway of hell. It hit the doorjamb just inside the portal to damnation, shattering the flask and everything erupted into fiery destruction.

**oOoOoOoOo**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Kermit was still at odds with leaving Peter and Kincaid to fight for survival, but he went anyway. As much as he hated it, the soldier in him was forced to trust in TJ's more extensive knowledge of the issues confronting them. Yet, his basic code of honor didn't sit well with leaving a man behind, no matter what the reason.

He glanced down at Mitch and a wave of helplessness washed over him as he saw the real reason why he was abandoning his comrades. Unlike earlier, Mitch was back in her near catatonic state; her expression empty, and her eyes devoid of her quirky personality. With Jody's help, they moved the girl forward, each with an arm around her, requiring both of them working together to keep her walking.

The throbbing pain of Kermit's arm and other injuries was nothing compared to his fears that Mitch might be permanently affected by the weekend's events and by the unknown situation going on inside the house. As soon as he passed Mitch over to Marilyn, he was going to go back to help TJ and Peter.

Marilyn's head snapped up when they emerged from the house. Catching sight of Mitch, she started running toward them, tears filling her eyes as she called to her daughter, "Mitch."

Kermit's helplessness grew when he saw Marilyn's reaction. She brought a hand to her mouth, her breath catching and she locked onto Kermit's gaze with an expression of near panic. Her face registered shock as she gaped at their battered physical condition, spurring her to increase her pace.

She was almost to them when Kermit realized Marilyn hadn't been waiting alone at the Suburban. A stranger had been standing with his arm around her, comforting her and he now followed behind her at a slower pace.

"Damn," Kermit muttered to himself, realizing the extent of his delayed reactions and chided himself for his lapse of attention. A lifetime of military and covert training began to kick in as Kermit assessed the unexpected stranger to determine if he was a possible threat or an unknown ally.

A horrific blast cut short his analysis. The house emitted a low rumble and then exploded, knocking them all to the ground hard, as the blast shook the very foundations of the house.

The next thing Kermit knew, Jody was gently patting his cheek and calling his name. Pain coursed through his system, throbbing to the beat of his heart, threatening to pull him back into unconsciousness. He was finally able to slow the agonizing experience enough to open his eyes.

He saw Marilyn beside him, bent over Mitch. She was frantically trying to get a response from her unconscious daughter.

Jody's pale expression loomed back into his line of sight as she leaned closer to him. It occurred to him that she wasn't doing much better than he was, bleeding from countless cuts and scrapes incurred in the past twenty-four hours. She clutched her left leg as she drew back.

"Jody, what happened?"

The blonde shrugged, still holding tightly onto her leg as her eyes squeezed shut. When she opened them, her gaze darted toward the house. "I-I don't know what happened, except something nearly leveled the house."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the destruction and continued, "How-how could anyone have survived that?"

Kermit followed her stare and drew in a ragged breath. What had once been a beautiful Victorian home was now a total ruin. Cursing loudly, he tried to sit up and froze, paralyzed as his body protested the movement in a flurry of fiery pain impulses.

"Kermit, you're hurt, you better stay put."

"Like hell I am!" he growled and somehow managed to get to his feet, staggering and swaying like a drunkard.

Jody shook her head in frustration and Kermit spared a glance at Marilyn before gaping at the house. When he looked back, he saw Marilyn sobbing as she held Mitch in her arms.

Marilyn brushed the hair from Mitch's forehead, and then noticed Kermit standing beside her. She choked back her tears. She was about to say something when he cut her off. "You stay with Jody and Mitch. I'm going to check on the others."

As brother and sister began a silent showdown, Jody tried to stand, but her injured leg crumpled beneath her. "Dammit," she cursed in a breathless rush as she collapsed in a heap on the asphalt driveway.

Kermit couldn't spare her the energy it would take to kneel down and check on Jody. Instead, he barked, "Just stay here, Jody, and keep an eye on them."

He turned to leave, only to find Marilyn blocking his path. She had stood during his momentary distraction, leaving her unresponsive daughter alone to stop him. Her ability to move so quickly left Kermit temporarily disoriented. The world was definitely moving much too fast for him to keep up with it.

Casting a worried glance down at Mitch, Marilyn touched her hand to his chest. "Help is on its way. I used your cell phone while you were out."

Kermit nodded, determined not to be sidetracked by his stubborn sister. He stepped around her, muttering, "Got to check on Peter and TJ."

He said the words as firmly as he could, but they came off sounding as if he was about to collapse. And maybe he was.

"Kermit, you're scaring me. You're hurt too badly to be moving around. Besides, that man already went inside. He said he'd take care of them until help arrived."

Kermit turned and stared at her with an uneven gaze.

"What man?" he asked until he remembered the stranger he'd seen before the blast. "You mean that guy who was standing with you when we came outside?"

Marilyn nodded. "Yes. I don't know who he is or why he was here, but he was kind enough to offer to help."

Kermit's suspicious nature kicked in despite his waning resources. "He just appeared out of the blue?" he asked as he checked for his Desert Eagle and was reassured to find it still in its holster.

"Yes. I know I should have been scared, but he was so kind and calming."

The full moon broke through the predawn cloud cover and she glanced up at Kermit, her expression reflecting a confused serenity. "He said the strangest thing as he walked away, _'Stay here and watch over those you love, but do not worry. Your daughter will recover as will the others. I will ensure the safety of those inside. Allow your faith to reveal your inner strength. Faith in action is an amazing thing to behold_.'"

Kermit rubbed at his aching arm as he bristled with irritation. "What the hell does that mean?" he barked before he realized he was being drawn into a conversation he didn't really want to have.

He put up a hand, waving off any reply she might have made. "Never mind. Tell me later."

He turned to leave and felt himself falling. He gasped in pain as Marilyn grabbed at him to keep him from hitting the ground. She awkwardly lowered him, even as he lost the battle to remain upright.

Taking a deep breath, she brushed back the long strands of hair that had fallen into her face while wrestling with him. "Sorry, big brother, but you aren't going anywhere."

Jody spoke up finally, having remained silent during their confrontation, "Hmm, I see stubbornness is a dominant gene in your family."

Kermit shifted his menacing glare from Marilyn to Jody and she put up her hand in self-defense. "Hey, I'm only stating fact. Besides, Kermit, you can barely stand. You wouldn't be of any help inside. Like Marilyn said, help is on the way."

"Yeah, but will it be in time to do any good – " He stopped in mid-sentence and turned to Marilyn so rapidly he had to hold his head until the dizziness passed.

"Marilyn, did you say you used my cell phone?" he rasped, thinking he must have heard her wrong.

Marilyn nodded. "Yes, you left it on the seat. When I saw it, I decided to call 911."

Kermit swallowed with disbelief. "Where is it now?"

Marilyn looked at him, equally bewildered. "In the Suburban."

"Get it."

She pulled her gaze away from him, unspoken questions filling her expression, but apparently she knew her brother well enough to do as requested. She only paused a moment to check Mitch once more before doing his bidding.

Marilyn returned in a few moments, handing him the retrieved phone. He stared at it, playing with the buttons for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"What is it, Kermit?" Jody asked, unable to take the mystery any longer.

He turned the cell phone toward Jody. " My cell phone hasn't worked all day, thanks to interference from Peter's weird mojo, but the antenna was broken when the birds attacked us. That's why I left it in the car."

The expressions of confusion met one another and grew, and then they turned in unison toward the rubble that had once been the Gables and gaped in silence.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Chapter 13**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Kermit stopped short when he saw two groups of men carrying Peter and TJ from the burning rubble of the house. The ongoing fire generated enough light in the predawn hour to see what was happening. Kermit wondered how so many people had arrived ahead of any emergency services, then he decided they must be neighbors from surrounding houses... people who had rushed over while he'd been unconscious.

Those carrying Peter and TJ stopped beside Kermit and gently laid the two men on the ground. Kermit watched nervously, wishing there was something he could do help, especially given Kincaid's pale, haunted expression and Peter's semiconscious moans of pain.

Peter was bleeding heavily from both ankles and his shoulder. It didn't take someone with medical experience to see Peter was in desperate need of a hospital in order to receive proper medical treatment.

Kermit pushed away the hands of a man trying to help him, mainly because something about this entire situation disturbed him, but he just couldn't pinpoint it right away. He growled at the man hovering over him until the man backed away and began giving assistance to Mitch and Marilyn instead. Something about these _'helpers' _begged for explanations.

Kermit pulled himself together and crawled over to Peter's side. "Who are you people? Where'd you come from?" Kermit barked in his usual gruff manner at the man tending to Peter.

"We are here to help. And by the looks of things, all of you could use it."

Kermit waved off a new arrival, another one ready to tend to his ails, mostly because he didn't want to be helped right then. And the explanation he'd just heard had confused rather than clarified things for him.

"Where did you come from?" Kermit found his voice dropping down to a whisper as a wave of dizziness came over him. He pushed back the vertigo and focused his attention on the man helping Peter.

The man's eyes darted upward for the briefest of moments. Kermit's breath by what he glimpsed in the man's eyes. It was reminiscent of the parting of dark clouds to reveal a ray of golden sunshine in the midst of a storm.

Kermit rubbed his eyes, confounded by what he'd seen. Conflicting suspicions towards those helping them butted against a rush of sudden trust he felt in that instant. He finally stared up at the man, who was patiently waiting for him before he began speaking again.

"You have done a great service today in the battle of good and evil. Now, sit back and allow us to repay your good deeds."

Kermit felt himself immediately relax, instinctively knowing they were in safe hands, despite his usual suspicious tendencies. When the man spoke, it was with such great compassion and concern it made Kermit feel guilty for his earlier gruffness. As much as Kermit tried to keep his eyes open, the heavy lids drooped closed. The next thing he knew, the dawn's first light was arriving, a rivulet of gilded light heralding daylight's approach.

Kermit felt a presence at his side and glanced down to see Mitch nestled under his arm, snuggled as close as she could be and sleeping like an angel.

Marilyn touched his other arm, alerting him to her presence. She bent down and kissed him on the forehead, while her hand brushed through Mitch's long locks.

"She was worried about you. Said you looked like you were cold and when she got comfortable beside you, she just dropped off to sleep as easy as that."

"She always was a strange kid," Kermit whispered, kissing her upon the top of the head, but stopped when he thought he might awaken her.

"That's only because she's so much like you," Marilyn replied with a smile.

"Poor kid," Kermit muttered, then eyed her closely. "Is she... okay?"

Marilyn nodded cautiously. "As okay as I can see. TJ checked on her and thought she wouldn't have any lingering problems... other than having you for an uncle."

Kermit grunted sarcastically, then realized that he wasn't in pain. In fact, he had no physical pain whatsoever. Not in his arm. Not with any of his other varied injuries. Nothing.

His wide-eyed gaze met Marilyn's and she smiled at him with telltale tears in her eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, hearing the unexpected echo of awe in his voice.

Marilyn shrugged, but before she could answer, he heard the unmistakable sounds of firefighters battling a blaze. It had to be the Gables, now totally involved in flame, he thought with sudden realization. His head bolted upward only to be stopped by weakness and his sister's hand.

"The house," he whispered.

He glanced up at her and then followed her gaze over to the blaze that was consuming her home. There was sadness in her eyes, but somehow there was also a sense of gratitude.

"Marilyn, I'm so sorry," he started, surprised how hoarse and tired his voice sounded.

She shushed him by brushing her fingers across his lips. "You are alive and relatively well. I have Mitch safe and sound. That's all that matters."

She chuckled and looked at the house again. "Jason will never believe all of this happened while he was away on a two night field trip. At least, not until he sees it with his own eyes."

Kermit watched the flickering flames as they devoured the last of Marilyn's possessions. She seemed to read his mind with sisterly clairvoyance as she said firmly, "I don't give a damn about material things. Especially when I thought I was going to lose all of you. Material things can be replaced. Belligerent brothers and dear daughters cannot."

She bent over and kissed his forehead again. TJ was kneeling beside them when she pulled back. Kermit reached out a hand to shake TJ's in thanks, but noticed how TJ was holding back, guilt muting many of his movements.

With his best quirky grin, Kermit said, "Kincaid, you are invited to all of my exorcisms."

"Even when I blow up the house?" TJ asked without meeting his gaze, looking back toward the burning rubble.

"Hell, yes, if it saves lives," Kermit said, smiling at Marilyn, feeling her strength in a way he'd never felt before as he hugged Mitch to his side. "I didn't think any of us were going to come out of this one alive."

Mitch sat up as TJ's expression turned grim. He whispered regretfully, "We almost didn't."

Mitch brought her fingers to graze along the early morning stubble of TJ's chin, her voice quiet and haunting. "It wasn't really her, you know."

TJ seemed to shudder with those simple words, causing Kermit to push himself up on his elbows. "Who's that, munchkin?" Kermit asked gently, keeping his concerned gaze on Kincaid.

"Lydia, his girlfriend. She wanted him to save her, but it wasn't really her, just one of those demon things pretending to be her."

Kermit swallowed hard as he saw grief paint itself across TJ's features. Mitch leaned closer and put her hand to rest on TJ's jaw. "You know it wasn't her. She would never have said those things to you. She never would have forced you into a choice like that."

Mitch swept up and hugged TJ without warning. The quiet detective seemed to dissolve into her embrace, holding her for a long moment. He pressed his lips to her temple, speaking so quietly the others could barely hear him. "Yeah, you're right, sweetheart. You know a lot, especially for someone who wasn't even there. You can sense things that others can't, can't you?"

Mitch nodded, but whispered into his ear, "Yeah, but don't tell them. They'll just worry about me."

TJ finally pulled away, his expression painfully distant, spurring Kermit to squeeze Kincaid's shoulder. "I'm sorry about Lydia."

TJ swallowed but didn't meet his gaze. "Yeah, well, maybe I'll have another chance one day."

"I hope so, Kincaid, I really do."

TJ nodded and simply stood, walking away, but not before Kermit saw him wiping at stray tears.

Jody walked over to them, arguing with a paramedic. "Yeah, well, there might have been injuries here once, but there's not anymore, okay? So scram."

The befuddled EMT scratched his head, and headed back to his partner and the waiting ambulance.

Jody stood with her hands on her hips as she looked down at Kermit. "What? You want me to tell them what really happened?" she joked, though her tone was serious.

"Jody, what really did happen?" Kermit asked quietly, rotating his once broken arm around in slight circles, testing the limb's strength.

"You'll have to ask someone else, buddy, because this one's got me stumped."

"What did TJ say about it?" Kermit asked, his gaze turning toward TJ's still form standing at the edge of the fire line.

"Not much, and for TJ, that's saying a lot," she said with a chuckle, and then her expression turned concerned. "I'm going to go check on him," she said as she walked away from him.

"You do that," Kermit said as he started to get to his feet with Marilyn's help, surprised at his level of agility given how badly he'd been hurt. The silent surprise in Marilyn's expression echoed his own. And he looked in TJ's direction again with confused wonder.

**oOoOoOoOo**

TJ stood, staring off into the distance. He'd been so close to Lydia, or at least her image. It was almost more cruel than not seeing her at all. He was so deep in his misery that he didn't hear Jody approach him.

He jumped when she touched him. "TJ, my friend, this whole thing has been pretty damned mind-boggling. And you showed a level of expertise in dealing with demons that went way beyond what anyone could have done with simple research."

TJ smiled sadly. "When I lost Lydia, I almost became a priest."

"I figured as much," she paused, touching his shoulder.

TJ cleared his voice, feeling the need to explain where no additional explanation had been asked for. "I took it as far as entering the seminary for a year before I realized I'd only be able to get Lydia back by action and not self-sacrifice. After dropping out of the seminary, I devoted myself to learning everything I could on the subject. Unfortunately, I had to earn some type of income while doing that and my father encouraged me to go back to being a cop, so that's what I did."

Jody bit her lip as she listened to him. She sounded chagrined when she spoke, "I'm sorry, TJ, I don't mean to intrude. I just wanted to thank you for saving Mitch and Peter... for saving all of us."

"All except one," TJ whispered, his eyes brimming with tears suddenly.

Jody wrapped a comforting arm around him and he recovered quickly. They strolled over to where Peter, Mitch, Marilyn, and Kermit were sitting on a low brick wall.

TJ tried to smile bravely, but he was wearing his emotional pain and vulnerability like a heavy cloak. It seemed to weigh down his reactions with its burden.

"So who called in the troops for the rescue?" Kermit asked, eyeing the emergency crews again.

TJ smiled, his previous grief abating, as if he was privy to some inner joke none of the others knew about.

"Come on, Kincaid, spill," Kermit said, with a demanding edge to his voice.

Kermit eyed TJ ominously, then his gaze shifted to Peter and Jody. "Does it have something to do with the fact that none of us have any remaining injuries? Especially Peter. He was just this side of death's door the last time I saw him."

TJ stared at Peter for a moment, then asked, "Peter, what do you remember after the last blast?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. He stammered for a moment, and then looked to TJ in disbelief, as if he'd suddenly realized the possibilities involved. TJ merely nodded in encouragement. Peter shook his head and cursed under his breath. "Nah, there's no way in hell."

He swallowed as he thought again about what he had seen.

TJ interrupted. "Perhaps, no way in hell, but in heaven... that's a different story. It's okay, Peter. It's hard to put a miracle into words." He paused as Peter's agitation worked to calm itself. "You saw something today few live to see and remember."

"Why? What happened?" Jody demanded.

Peter ran a hand through his hair and began to explain. "TJ threw a flask of something into the portal, and everything exploded. I looked up and saw the roof above us collapsing in on us and I thought this is it. But then, out of nowhere, a host of angels appeared – honest to God, it was a host of angels."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "They strengthened the roof while another group picked us up and carried us away from the portal."

TJ nodded, a haze of amazement haloing his gaze, and Peter continued. "Then it looked like the angels surrounded us as they carried us outside, just in case the demons tried to make another run at us."

Kermit grunted, either in amazement or disbelief, it was hard to tell, but Peter picked up on it right away. "When I looked toward you and the others, Kermit, there was a bunch of angels surrounding you, too. That's the last thing I remember before passing out."

The silence cast over the group was numbing as the reality of Peter's words began to sink in.

TJ broke the silence. "You know he's telling the truth, Kermit. That's how your cell phone was able to work when it was broken. That's how none of your injuries are quite as grievous as they once were. That's how the demon's mark was finally removed from the necks of Peter and Mitch. Miracles. Divinely sanctioned miracles that happened to be played out at the Gables today for our benefit."

After finishing, TJ turned and walked away, standing at the edge of the fire engines battling the remnants of the blaze.

**oOoOoOoOo**

No one said anything for a long while until Mitch's voice broke the silence. "He misses her so much. Too bad he couldn't find her this time."

Kermit's quiet voice broke the spell laying over the others. "Missing someone can do powerful things to a person's heart, Mitch. Perhaps, Emily Dickinson was right. _Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell.'_"

Jody touched Peter's arm, her fingers lingering there as if she was in need of his strength. "Peter, do you think TJ is right? That there were angels here tonight, helping you and TJ survive that blast... and keeping you safe until help arrived?"

Peter rubbed at his forehead, then shrugged. "I believe we fought demons tonight, so if you believe in one, you almost have to accept the presence of the other. It's that balance of all things, the yin and yang of life and beyond. Angels and demons. Heaven and hell. Sure, I can believe it. What else could explain what we've seen?"

He stared at TJ watching the fire crews work, knowing TJ wasn't really watching the men working the fire at all. His eyes held the gaze of a lost love and a bitter remorse that would take a very long time to heal.

Jody pulled him closer to her, bringing him back to their conversation. "Are you okay, partner?"

Peter smiled sadly. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just grateful to be alive." His voice trailed off as his attention returned to TJ's lonely figure, a still statue standing in the breaking dawn, and he ducked his head slightly with guilt. "And sorry that some of those people responsible for my survival had to take some hard hits on my behalf."

Jody carefully wrapped her arm around his waist. "You're worth it, Peter."

Peter sighed, still unable to meet her gaze. "TJ saved me from hell, but I feel like I've cast him back into that same pit by helping me."

Jody smiled sadly as she recited, "I remember reading something once, _'The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make a heaven of hell, or a hell of heaven.'_ It's up to TJ to work it out as either a heaven or a hell."

Peter looked up into her blue eyes and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "When did you get to be so wise?"

"I've always been wise. It's just harder for you to hear me at times," she teased before helping him to stand.

Peter stood and stretched out stiff muscles. "I think I need to have a talk with Detective Kincaid."

Jody hesitated, then nodded in agreement. "I was going to say maybe he just needs some time alone, but maybe he needs a friend more right now."

Peter paused, starting at TJ, and then glanced back down to her. "Funny how he became one of us so quickly, isn't it? Even being the commissioner's kid didn't keep him out."

"He's good, Peter. We've always appreciated a person who can do their job well."

He nodded and rubbed his face as he stepped forward.

"TJ?" he stopped to call to the redheaded detective, not wanting to startle him by appearing at his side without warning.

TJ turned. When he saw it was Peter, he sighed, as if knowing this upcoming conversation had to be done in order to have closure of the night's events.

"Look, Peter, whatever you feel you have to say – "

Peter pointed a finger at TJ. "Listen, you better let me say it or else we'll be here all day." Peter finished the comment for TJ and smirked.

TJ grunted and nodded in agreement.

"I-I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. You could have chosen Lydia."

"It wasn't Lydia," TJ fired back in him a rapid retort.

Peter nodded and stuck his hands into his pants pockets. "But you didn't know that for sure at the time. You chose to save me and I'll be forever in your debt."

TJ stubbed at the ground with one foot for a moment, before looking up at the plume of smoke trailing high in the sky. "I think I knew. In my gut, I knew it wasn't her. Then when she started demanding that I sacrifice you to save her, I knew for sure. Especially when she called me Thomas. She never called me Thomas before."

TJ went quiet and Peter allowed him the silence. Both men watched the fire crews as they began the mop-up process. TJ's barely whispered words surprised Peter when he said them, mostly because they sounded so honest.

"Maybe, Peter, maybe I need to thank you for something."

Peter's face scrunched up in reaction to TJ's unexpected comment. "You want to thank _me_? Why?"

"When we were inside the house, I heard you tell one of the demons you blasted that it was what they got for hitchhiking without permission."

Peter smiled with an evil smile of recall. "Yeah, I remember that."

Again, TJ's foot worked the ground, digging at the grass, looking for the dark black soil underneath. "Maybe, I need to thank you for reminding me I need to move on with my life.

"I mean, one day I might still find Lydia and have her back with me, but I can't keep my life on hold until that day. I can't keep living with a monkey on my back. In a way, Lydia has become a hitchhiker to me, always present in my heart and thoughts, but unable to contribute in any way. At least, not right now."

Peter rubbed at the back of his neck, once blistered, and now smooth with new skin. "TJ, I don't know why we have to live our lives the way we do, with all the pain and the trials we are forced to go through, but sometimes, when we get to the other side of it, we can see why we had to go through what we did."

He placed a hand on TJ's shoulder as he stared at the smoky remnants of the night's occurrences. "I hope that one day, TJ, you'll see the other side of this thing with her at your side and know that it happened for a purpose, and that you both became stronger because of it."

TJ took in a deep breath of air and held it for a long while, then he turned toward Peter and nodded. He brought his hand up to Peter's shoulder and squeezed. "I hope you are right, Peter. Something in my gut agrees with you. But, still, fate sure can take its own sweet time before it decides to help us lowly humans heal and grow."

TJ started to walk away, turning around so that he was walking backwards. "Yep, it can take a mighty long time to heal and reveal."

TJ flashed him a poignant smile. He turned back around, facing the direction he was walking, but Peter could still make out his last words, "Until that time, Peter, don't call me, TJ."

Peter grunted and shook his head. Somehow, everything was going to be okay.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**The End**

**Chapter 14**


End file.
